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Brother MAG
My brother handed me anger at a young age
He served violence as his gift to me
He directed his agitated fists at my body
And now he is the reason I have taught myself to be gentle
Because he made every day a battleground,
His emotions became my bruises
I learned to duck and dodge and swerve
I learned to turn myself into stone
Cool, steady, unbreakable
I learned how to melt into corners and hide beneath blankets
I learned how to turn my head so instead
of my nose his fist would hit my cheek
I learned how to fear anger and hands and knuckles and palms and mouths
The one thing I never learned was how
to fight back
Instead I took the blows and words
Absorbing them into my fragile bird body
And it turned me into a hardened, distant boy
Hiding behind walls
Cringing from touches and gestures and skin
I have never had the audacity to speak venom
I have never had the right to howl anger
He took that from me
I have never had the courage to hit anything but a wall
I never got to feel safe around men who raised their voices
He took that from me, he took so much
And … and … now he has turned me
into a boy who is afraid of anger
Afraid that there is a piece of him inside me
Afraid that I could become him
Afraid, afraid, afraid
They say I got my eyes from my grandmother
My humor from my father
My body from my mother
So thank you, brother
Because it looks like all I got from you
Is fear
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