+ ending before you can begin +

I’d like to drift back
To your long,
Painful days
In alphabet city -
Where you watched your
Brother
Waste away
Into paper.

I’d see him in
Our basement in
The evenings.
I’d hear your bedroom
Noises
And creep down the
Red tiles.
They were always so cold
Against my little toes.

He’d meet me there;
Wait as I’d pass
The crystals wafting high
Above my small stature.

Sweet Stanley was the
Only ghost
That never scared me.
He held me.
He smelled like laundry detergent
And New York,
As I'd imagine it,
In the 40’s.

I know why you hide, Father.
You lost the single
Person you
Truly loved.
And you were
Only 7 years old.

I don’t blame you
For ceasing to
Care.
I don’t blame you
For anything
Anymore.