Exculpate

I can't watch you like this, it has been
months and I've hidden myself from
seeing you here with a white, paper-thin
mask covering the form of you.

You have bandaids on your hands, an
attempt to distract me from noticing the
pale skin disappearing before me.

The shadow is so close now, I feel sick to
my stomach and I'm unfolded at the thought
of your spirit being sucked away and I can't
hold onto it long enough.

I can't stay here, in a place that ignores
the passing of brilliance.

I used to complain about the feeling of
transparency and now, seeing you here,
regret for my words flush through me.

You must hear my words creeping out from
my thoughts because you tell me it's okay
as I watch your bones fall apart.

It took me too long to get here and soon I'll
stand alone, holding onto the mask you were
wearing while you allowed yourself to slip away.

It's inevitable and you'll be left imagining me
as a phoenix, a fire-red mystery that swept
through thunder and escaped when I found
a way to let go.

*This write is more personal to me than most, my oldest brother who is only 38, has been battling lung cancer, both lobes, for over 18 months. I haven't seen him since April and I miss him terribly.*