What Do You See?

Little brother, little brother, 

where have the years gone? 

Last I remember, you were just turning 7.

Still held a sparkle in your eye.

Not anymore. 

It's October 29th tomorrow, you're a year away from being 13.

I saw you this past Saturday and that's when I knew.

You're not 7 anymore.

I could have broken right there, when I saw that everything has changed.

She's done this to you, your mother. 

My mother.  

Her. 

Why? 

Mother, how could you? 

Mother, how dare you. 

He was just a little boy. He had such a 

vibrancy. 

The happiest smile.

You took that. 

Mother, how could you? 

Mother, how dare you.

That little boy saw a loving world, 

and you've darkened it.

You've sacrificed your kids for him.

You have sacrificed us.  

Shh, mother, we can hear your lies.

Quick mother, take off your make-up, you're almost home...

his home.

Funny. Your face is barren with vulnerabilty, nothing to hide under. 

And yet, never have I seen a person so full of secrets. 

Funny. 

Don't worry, I know I'm not welcome.

But mother, can I ask you a question,

When you look in the mirror, what do you see?