Sometimes I can't help but wonder

if you remember, even a little,

the things I did for you.

While you were locked in

candy cane cages, I worked for you,

starved for you, killed for you

while you idly sucked on lollipops

and watched vacantly, uncomprehending.

You pretended with Father that everything was

perfectly forgiven, that we could be three again

until the next time loneliness makes him weak;

until then, my brother, a trail of breadcrumbs

still winds through the dark forest. Close your

eyes with me and pretend for a second that

we're there again, looking for signs of light

under the closed canopy of trees.