My brother...

Luke’s Passage

Papa and Baba died
within five years of each other
abandonment to you
who never quite felt at home among six sisters
Grandparent’s house was your getaway
You knew that Papa would always listen
when parents misunderstood
and teachers overlooked
Luke, age 9 “I’m nice”
you carved into the warped wood by the house
But nobody heard
And loneliness found you in the alley
willing to try-
snuck into your backpack
masquerading
as just something
to take the pain away
Paper route highs
were hidden for years
High school came and
you were a pioneer
to followers with need to experiment
Popularity meant all night parties
Mornings meant homeroom
with tequila hangover and
nicotine under fingernails
But that was only fifty percent of the time
Other mornings you were couch spread
cupboards ransacked
Wads of rolled up cash
earned at my donut selling job
cleverly stuffed in hollowed copy of Harry Potter
had been found by you
and taken
because your dealers would take your life
But your need for the drug just grew greater
that you screamed at your mother
and wished death on your father
You were toxic
like everything you put in your body
that made your eyes too wide
and your skin ghostly and I was afraid
I needed to know you loved me
more than your deceit showed
So I did your homework
when you couldn’t keep up
And drove you around
when you lost your license
But enabling was not the answer
Because your graduation came
with no lesson learned
Back home
You balance on the edge of a bucket
in the garage- you get high
Not remembering that there greater
salvation than what burns in your hand
You gaze out the smeared window
family below on a high of hamburger and love
picnicking because life will go on without you
You can’t find your way out of the abyss
The only clear road you see
is the path of addiction
so you take it