The Road he Chose

For my brother

He slipped out in the dark,
a shadow against the fading stars,
his bag packed tight with things
he thought he'd need�"
but none of it was enough
to fill the spaces he left behind.

The door creaked open,
a whisper lost in the night,
and he was gone,
slipping through the cracks
of a life that never quite fit him right.

We never asked why.
We could never really know,
what it was that broke him,
what it was that pushed him
to run from the weight of this place.

Did he hear the silence?
The quiet that screamed too loud,
or did he just need a place
where the echoes wouldn’t follow?

I’ve walked the halls he left behind,
his scent still clinging to the walls,
and I wonder if he’s found
a corner of the world
where he can breathe without restraint,
where the past doesn’t chase him
through every street and shadow.

But I can’t stop thinking,
as the days stretch long,
and the room he left grows colder,
if he’ll ever come back�"
or if he’s running forever,
looking for something
he’ll never quite find.