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Remember when we used to sleep in twin beds five feet away from each other but sometimes I’d wake up in the middle of the night and whisper your name into the dim glow enough times until you mumbled back and I’d ask if I woke you and you’d lie for my sake and try to fake a conversation so dull that my eyelids would get heavy and the room would blur gently back into the dark night?

Remember when we would sit catatonic on our multicoloured carpet behind the closed bedroom door, listening to the cannon of voices and insults bombed carelessly on the other side as you checked the time and our stomachs grumbled but we silenced our appetite because nothing was worth crossing over into enemy lines so we sat around bored and scared and quietly as we counted the number of plates and glasses tossed around as casualties?

Remember when sometimes the cannons were fired directly at us and we lay in our beds at night whimpering from burning cheeks and aching arms but neither of us cried out loud because even though my face burned and my ego was bruised, I could see yours hurt too so we only looked over every so often merely to check on the other before turning over and whispering a prayer for a tomorrow that’s kinder?

Remember when we were tiny roommates three years apart sharing a cramped space and secrets in the dark as we made our way through a fucked up place called home although it made no sense because love somehow also meant pain but soon it stopped being such a fuss because it became the world against us and that was a fight I was not afraid to fight but you left in such a rush and now I’ve got no one on my side except for memories of a partner and protector that the world knows simply as my brother but they don’t know of the secrets and voices and bruises because that is something only you and I can remember.

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