The Price We Pay

In the mirror, my brother stares,

a hollow man caught in tightened airs,

words unsaid hang like smoke,

after he slammed that door,

a quiet gunshot, the air broke.

I watched him struggle,

a language lost beneath the weight,

the mask of manhood,

crafted in a fragile state.

What cost, to silence himself,

a prison made of pride,

while echoes haunt this empty shelf,

as shadows coil and hide.