You were already grown
when I was just finding my feet
eight years older,
a lifetime, back then.
You had the car, the friends,
the confidence I didn’t yet understand.
I watched from the doorway,
half in awe, half in hope
that one day I’d be like you.
You never saw it,
but I studied everything
how you walked, how you laughed,
how the world seemed to listen
when you spoke.
Then time happened.
Years turned into walls,
and walls turned into silence.
But I never stopped thinking
you were the coolest guy I knew.
I don’t want to rewind
just to say, even now,
after all these years,
that little brother still remembers,
still looks up to you,
and still loves you
more than you probably know.
I miss you, Murray.
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