Lobotomy Boy

Those freckled runes he carves
on his wrists
And canary coloured pills that lift him in bliss
help him forget mother’s howler hits.
Some merrymaking nurse drills a hole in his head
chunks up the lobes like pie
mouthes ‘he’s better off dead’.
So I throw on my black dress
mix my tears with the flood
and realise he’s no longer the brother I loved.