Lost Brother

Lost Brother

Sometimes I want to hug a man I don’t know anymore,

but he’s still ripe in my nostalgia.

I can almost feel his boney frame encasing my own uncomfortably.

Wood knocking –

except he was more like lumber while I was more like twigs.

Towering and looming –

felt like shelter. Felt like safety.

The closest to a brother I could ever have as a brother-less woman.

There was strength, ease, and most of all, no pressure. No innuendos. No assumptions. No judgement.

Just our branches tangling in a completely love smothered gesture.

Sometimes, I have this urge to hug him,

but I don’t know where he is anymore,

because I no longer know him.

 

– Rachel R. Vasquez, 5/6/2015

Creative Commons License
This work is licensed under a Creative Commons Attribution-NonCommercial-NoDerivatives 4.0 International License.

 

There was no thoughtful process involved here. Literally wrote this up within the last few minutes and had to get it out of me. Knew a guy in high school that was like a brother to me – not sure how we lost touch throughout the years, but I’ve come to realization recently that I really, really want to see him again. And hug him. The last pictures I have of us together, we’re hugging.

I miss that tall skinny jock. Damn it…

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Like tryna’ to catch water.
Could never win, no matter how much I fought her.

A pointless carousel, I watched it dissolve.
Those revolving doors,
couldn’t take it anymore,
as they took us round and round,
and I wound up a deserter.

Couldn’t pretend, couldn’t float on the deep end,
felt like an accessory to murder.

Whenever she defiled her worth, didn’t matter what she deserved,
but I couldn’t weather the rewind.

Had to repeat history, had to re-loop misery,
Couldn’t remain blind.

I tried to be hero, tried wise mediator.
Instead I became a powerless spectator.

Maybe my shoulders weren’t strong.
Like slow motion she willingly leaped off
into an ocean of sharks.

Like rolling under a the wheel of a truck.
Like running through a fire.
Poking an electric socket, she was dead set on drowning –
Wired.
No matter the life jacket, what advice she gets,
the only place she could live
were those thorny roads I abandoned.

When a part of you gets gangrene,
you cut it off.
There’s nothing more helpless
than loving one who doesn’t love herself.

And so I swept it under the rug.
Saved myself even though it hurt.
Had to release her from my clutch because I loved her too much,
and I was done being burned.

 

– Rachel R. Vasquez, 3/12/2015

Creative Commons License
This work is licensed under a Creative Commons Attribution-NonCommercial-NoDerivatives 4.0 International License.

 

I once had a friend who was more like my sister. She was a part of me, but she was no good for me. And she was no good to herself. Sometimes when you love someone, you’ve gotta let them go. It’s one of the hardest decisions I’ve ever had to make in my life, and sometimes, I miss her… I hope she’s out there, and I hope she’s finally learned to love herself.