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.