there are things I need to get out
secrets and mysteries that keep me up at night
as I lay my head down and try to drift off
They well up and whisper in my ear
my rest is hindered and I can do naught
so I come here to try and calm the storm

the sting of regret or the longing of nostalgia
at times I am not sure which it is I feel
was it my body that welcomed the touch?
or was I craving the emotional connection?
my brother seemed a break from the war
but he was a cunning spy and assassin

his sweet words and comforts were welcome
but only as a break from my crude parents
It is a cruel cycle that binds me to him
he derailed the growth of my personality
and now there are none with whom I am close
so his attention and pseudo love are missed

I wish for his pain and his torture and death
but I know if he left I would sorely miss him
because deep down inside I already do
and I secretly want to end my life too
But I know I won't do that
and I won't kill him either
But, Oh how I wish
I could do one or the other