my fiery brother:
does not hold up when climbing
to the top, alone.
--
What font would your voice be?
I am thinking something large, bold, but with serifs.
My brother and I spent hours growing up designing our dream homes and our own fonts. I would have a well lit library. He wanted an underground car factory with pre-unwrapped caramels. He held the badminton birdie gingerly with his left hand and as it lifted into the air and crossed the sun, I squinted and it hit me in the nose.
The first time he held my hand was when I bled from those nostrils. And the second time after I vomited from playing silent hill 3 and listening to the Beatle's "Number 9" at the same time in the dark during winter break with nothing in my stomach. And the third time during my first migraine when I could not dial a phone and I cried harder than when Tyler broke up with me in seventh grade and I got a D in grammar. My parents still don't know about that.
My brother despite never wanting me to join him when he climbed surely knew how to care. And it makes me wonder if I am the same. If when we trek together I seem to never wait up.
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