27 Stitches (feat. A.E. Wynter)

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Allcapsallan

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27 Stitches
Dedicated to my older brother Allan

The swing set in the backyard of my childhood home is a slender leg red and white beauty
Before the metal grows more rust than real
I once cut my palm open on it's jutting nails, flesh and blood left behind
On the day the swing set crumbles, legs snapping at screwed-on joints
My body is carried to a scrap metal graveyard

It was easier than I thought
Leaving pieces of myself behind

I still see the skin of my knees on the potholed pavement outside my childhood home
The place where my brother and I stacked bricks and plywood, built ramps
Back then we didn't know what it meant to stay in a town like this
We could have built ourselves bridges or a way out
Back then, we could only think of rollerblades and skateboards
No helmets, no knee pads, because the weight kept us from flying

Nobody can teach you how to make a scar of your body
But you can learn that every gash holds a memory
And when the skin knits back together the memory stays
Brother, do you look for me in the glossy white on your knuckles

Brown skin snapped open where you hit the first boy I ever crushed on
I am told before your knuckles become scars
They are anchors in my hand as we walk home from the bus station
I am told before your knuckles become scars
They're a blanket over the small body in a shared crib
In the mirror I see you brother

In the fish line ditch on my forehead
Our game of ring around the rosy, my skull cracked open on the edge of a metal banister
The sleek pit in my skull is a memory from a younger self I've forgotten
But our mother tells the story often, her voice having lost the edge of fear
Brother, were you worried, even then, of the miles I would put between us

Brother, were you worried, even then, that I might forget you
In the mirror, I see a landmark and know my way home

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