Two Brothers


Crunching pavement,

Under the wheels of the Impala.

I hear it roll under us,

Honest against the dark night.

My brother sleeps in the seat beside me.

He breathes deeply in and out,

In and out.

Innocent illuminating the broken.

He's good, my brother.

Sammy doesn't lie.

Sammy doesn't cheat.

Golden among the black.

I try to be like him,

To be brave and fair.

But I like to fight,

And I know that I let Sammy down,

Over and over.

Closing my eyes,

I tighten my grip on the wheel,

And resolve to be better,

As the cold night slips by outside.


I wake up to find Dean watching me.

We are somewhere dark,

And the world is quiet now.

I show no signs that I'm awake.

Dean mutters under his breath.

"Sammy," he murmurs,

"What the hell am I doing?"

I show no signs that I hear him.

His knuckles turn white,

As he clutches the steering wheel.

He closes his eyes for a moment.

I show no signs that I see him.

I watch him,

Troubled and solemn.

I want to reach out and touch him,

Grab his arm and tell him that

He does so many things right.

Dean drives on in silence,

And as I see him grow calm,

I allow myself to drift back to sleep,

As the cold night slips by outside.