Wednesday, January 25, 2023

a little flat stan

the horror that is my brother cannot even be measured 

his talent surpasses mine - his lies can make a child stop crying 

perhaps because to him his words are not lies but promises 

promises that are never meant to be kept. no one ever sees 

it but for me - his speech is evident, each word a crisp delusion 

a madness only felt by me and acknowledged by him when spun 

no amount of screaming or ranting or hitting will ever teach him 

his deception matted into his very soul - dad you did that - how 

proud you must be