23

So hard not to miss you these days, brother. You’d be 23 this year, too, though a month older than I, you never let me forget that.

I’ll never forget the sunrise talks…never stop wanting to see where you’d be now. Never forget that grin, that proud look standing with Sarah at the winter dance. Never regret the way I acted the last Friday night you came by to hang out–please, please know I’ll never stop being sorry. Never forget your tears, fighting in the hospital.

* * *

Anger erupts like an earthquake in LA
I wore a black suit to his funeral
I laughed at our inside jokes with myself

* * *

Needing your more than ever, in these cold, distant days.

************************

“(I know dead people, and you are not dead.)” – F. Wright

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