You had a knack for destroying things and calling it art.

I had a knack for believing everything that came out of those brown lips were true.

You stopped calling mama, mama, when you turned ten years old.

Said you were double digits now. Said you couldn't be bothered to do childish things anymore.

You became a man.

In my eyes you had killed God and put your name on the bible.

Mama built you a shrine.

made out of the trophies you won and the ribbons you earned.

You were the fastest kid in your school.

I still remember the muscles in your legs moving. pumping so fast.

you won every race. Made mama so proud. you could even outrun the older boys in grade six.

(couldn't out run that train though, could you?)

oh, how you were a star.

You said long division was hard and that girls lips were soft.

and told me revelations of the world like how mood rings changed based on temperature and not emotions

yours was always the colour black

Let's play preacher. you said and

You held my head underneath the pool water

told me I was getting baptized. Your hands were holy so I let you.

I passed out twice.

came up with chlorine in my lungs and a praise lodged in my throat. Don't worry I coughed one up.

you stole the gerbil from the boy across the hall. said satan was in em so you baptized him in the bathtub. how it fought against your hand. how the bubbles came up from its tiny pink nose.

I told you to stop.

it's body stopped instead.

I watched you.

Leave it on his door mat in my old shoe box. you tied a bow around it. knocked on the door and ran away. what a cruel children's game we played.

the boy screamed when he saw it.

I was the one who got in trouble

I baptize myself now. See how long I can hold my breath underneath the bath water and think of you. especially when I inhale it up into my nose.

I wondered where gods went to die.

in the bible there is talk of a lake of fire that burns for a million years.

I like to think you were put in a place far, far worse.

everyone came to your funeral. the police. The coach. the school. the news. the pastor. you were a tragedy. you were a hero.

she buried you with all of your trophies around your neck. like the black kings we learned about at the museum.

the blue ribbon around you was the only happy colour out that day

Not even the sun shined.

the birds didn't chirp.

there was a stillness there

they heavens were crying

the ground shook

the cloth ripped

your casket reminded me of the kidney beans we used to squish into the earth and watch grow. It was the same colour

remember?

mine grew taller than yours

I still remember the hole you made from when you ripped it out of the ground. it looked like the hole you're lying in now

together me and mama planted you.

I sprinkled dirt over your grave.

and she watered you with her tears.

how we wasted time on you then expecting you to grow

but now I know

nothing good ever grows from death