Another day trying to turn my brother raping me,
Into poetry.
Another day trying to make art of my life’s deepest pain.

Betrayal is a curse,
Granted by someone you once trusted.
Brother’s are kind,
Brother’s are protective,
Brother’s are safe.

Mine was not.
Who made him that way?
A question I can’t leave behind.

Hating his little sister,
Since what day?
Could’ve been the day I was Brought home,
Or maybe it was the day I never left.

It matters not to me anymore.                                  

My gaze remains on figuring out who made him that way.   

My mind waltzes back to my father.

Did he make his son into a monster?