Blue Birds Fly

Birds

He was sick at the time,

folded in on himself like a crumpled piece of paper.

It happened too often.

Mama said it's because he was born too early,

He was just prone to stuff like this.

But god, is it torture

watching your little brother wither away in a cot,

gripping at his middle,

eyes glassy and unseeing.

Harsh coughing ripped from his throat

followed by ragged breathing

as he buried himself in blankets of wool and agony. 

He couldn't run from them, then. 

So Mama and Papa stayed behind

 to tend to my little brother's illness and sent me away. 

They let me survive and 

that's how come they died.