I dusted off the memories of things I'd done to you
Thirty years of hiding kept them very well preserved
A lifetime of regret was buried deeper than the grave
I desecrated when I said those words
"I'm sorry," I choked and gasped and wretched
Convulsed and wept and purged and prayed
"I'm sorry, little brother."
It was all that I could say
I laid a lifetime of regret upon an altar made of stone
Lit incense for the thousand little cruel things I'd done
Made sacrifices of the many lies that I had used
To cover up the travesty - I lived instead of you.
© Teresa Mayville
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