Forgive Me

by Anonymous

I awake to the sound of my brother not being good enough.

Aroused from slumber into arctic winds – into temperatures beyond mortal ken.

A deep bass thunders, and his inadequacies are laid bare.

Doors closed. Eyes closed. Headphones.

A prayer to keep my candle aflame.

I am asleep. I am gone. I am dead. 

It flickers and I flicker. I huddle into warmth and it warms me.

My room is a bunker, my fortress, well prepared.

Doors closed. Eyes closed. Headphones.


It’s not my fault.


The winds howl shrilly, my sibling’s voice cannot carry over 

The tempest of his own creation. He has provoked the gods. 


What shelter can I give that will not be destroyed?

I am made of mud mixed from sand and blood.

What use can you make of me?

When the angel and the devil both whisper, “Unworthy.”


It’s not my fault.


Suffocate me with your silent cries, your shadowed dreams. 

like ice sliding beneath my skin –

I turn away and breathe my candle in. 

Let it slough away the days, the months, the years,

The moments when you were my kin.


I am not my brother’s keeper.


Let it burn. Let it engulf me.

Let it incinerate all that I am.


Make it so I will never be cold again.