Young Brother


We took to the woods, my
young brother and I

I remember, he used to be heavier,
not so paper thin
as if..
his body were a door that would shut any moment

God damn his spinning organs
and his tiny,
fragile, right sided grin that he
gives to no one

except me

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saiom's picture


I'm wondering if

the spinning organs were weaving cancer..

I'm wondering what happened as if he's in the past tense

The phrase about the grin is beautiful



willow's picture

So very sad and yet I can't

So very sad and yet I can't help but smile at such beautiful poetry... I agree... Your brother is wonderful! You've allowed us to see him through your eyes and no one could know him or love him the way you do...

i feel like I've just watched a bitter-sweet end to a fantastic movie... If one word of this comment should stick with do u forever then let it be this- brilliant T.T

running_with_rabbits's picture

:) I love your work

:) I love your work

Much Love


battlepink's picture

I can see your brother...he's

I can see your brother...he's beautful

Beavis's picture

This one of those rare poems

This one of those rare poems that contains an entire novel in eleven lines! It touched and moved me. I left the page open so I could come back to it again and again. Simply brilliant!

Simply.Savannah.'s picture

Haunting yet lovely

A unique structure, not too long and not too short. I simply loved it. "his body were a door..." I do believe that should be was. Other than that, this piece is flawless. Some free verses simply cannot accomplish the rhythm that structurized poems have, but you have captured it here. You use combinations of words that are unusual, yet so enrapturing. "Spinning organs." Well done, just well done!

life_used_to_be_lifelike's picture

Thank you so much for your

Thank you so much for your comment! It meant a lot to me, because this poem is very close to me.Thank you for appreciating it for what it is

"It is a terrible thing to be so open. It is as if my heart put on a face and walked into the world" -- Sylvia Plath.