Courage and Reason

You heard it through the window, the large back one above the kitchen as your mother idled, drying dishes by hand, so passe' now to think back on it. You heard them say that we were alone now. The neighbors sold out, moved out, and left our house alone on the block. You ran to your room where I was waiting, but I was already crying so you shut me up and told me to stop being a baby. We always have eachother, always. Right?

Two years later, your brother moved out, left, no trace. So what did you do? Well of course you took me back to when he was still there, still plotting his escape from the town that we all grew up in but nobody seems to want to grow old in. You took me back and we found his plans of escape and you tore them up so he could never leave you and your house feeling empty. And then you told me, you turned so seriously too and said,

"We're leaving first."
So what else else is there besides the days passed between here and Mexico? We can go wherever you want, just stay with me, and I'll never leave your side. We can even go back to that old house where your family lives.

We always have eachother, always.