Blank Space

Dear little brother

My mother says she is thankful

That you were never born.

But some nights

I know she wishes

She had another.

I do too.

I have a lot of things
I want to ask you.
Is there a heaven? Did you go there?
Did you leave us on purpose?
Why didn’t you think I needed you?
Do you know when my mother thinks of you?
Would you have looked like me?

I was too young to understand

Why you left us.

Why the doctor looked grave

Why everyone smiled at me

Like I was strong.
 

Every time I say I’m an only child, I think of you.
 

We never talk about you.

Sometimes

I forget you ever half-existed.

Are you really a person

If you were part of another?

As long as she’s alive

Can I pretend that you are too?
 

There’s an empty room next to mine.

It would have been yours.
 

In every family picture we take

I imagine you in the blank space next to me.

Odd numbers never suffice.

When I go to heaven, will I see you there?
For now, I can wait. And I can love you for all the years you never had.

Your big sister,
Teja.