Stitches

Comments (0) Issue 3, Poetry, Writing

Stitches

By Samantha Pirog

 

Will my eldest brother

die?

 

Poison

drips

steadily

into

my

heart.

 

“Do you want us to call you if he

dies?”

 

My other brother,

Luke,

aims his acid.

Striking me down

and

snapping my sanity.

 

Will praying be enough to keep him

alive?

 

Red

angry

stitches dip in and

out of

the back of his neck. Still,

he lived.

 

Why did this have to happen to

him?

 

Still,

it’s my fault

it’s Luke’s fault

it’s our parents’ fault

it’s his girlfriend’s fault

it’s his fault.

 

Why did we feel the need to

blame?

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