J2

He lay there 

Crooked like a fetus 

The blankets attached with nail and hammer to cover the windows 

So he could sleep

And so he could think 

His eyes were always large like mine and today they were large and afraid 

Everyone always told him wow what a pretty child you are and so when we were young I told him we were the same him and I 

Bonded in a way 

And It was true 

There was something about his mind that I always understood 

I counseled him for hours when he was six or seven sitting in the crook of the armchair next to me 

Unable to process my words because he couldn't process his thoughts 

... 

You forget sometimes 

That you're needed 

You plug your calendar full of things 

When he is alone 

In his bedroom 

Every single morning 

With no one to talk to

Alone with his thoughts 

He told me once 

That when I leave

It is depressing 

And so now 

I've whittled the list down even more 

(It keeps getting smaller) 

For fear of missing him.

Of missing out. 

Of not being there when someone with the same blood

Is asking.