I was four,

And you were an infant.

We were happy,

But no for long.

I was five,

And I watched in awe,

As you took your first steps.

Towards me.

I was ten,

And your tooth fell out,

I cleaned up the blood,

And lied about the tooth fairy.

I was twelve,

And you wanted a bike,

You threw a tantrum.

You didn't talk to me for a week.

I was seventeen,

You couldn't stop reading, learning.

And I was a high school drop-out,

Wearing our dads leather jacket.

I was twenty-two,

You left me alone,

With a father, I loved.

Who was blinded by grief.

I was twenty-six,

When I begged you to come back.

I'm Sorry,

About the fire on the ceiling.

I'm twenty-seven.

And beneath my hands,

Your body is cold.

But not for long.