fault

my brother's life is like a warzone,
but not the way he imagines -
he's the only one dropping bombs.

up and down his arms, in dips and divots,
scabs and scars. he makes you watch him carve them out,
looks at you, says,

"look what you've done."

my brother's life is like a warzone,
and when it is over there will be parades held
to honor the suffering's end.

and in the eyes of those who battled -
in the eyes of those who knew my brother -
you will see it come in waves:

devastation.

relief.