The Worst Year of My Life

It's kind of funny
how life flows and folds,
one day one might find
someone that you would call a brother
transform into some arch nemesis;
the Lex Luthor to your Clark Kent.

It's odd trying to track
through paths of muddy memories,
the ways and means we took
to get to where we are.

This road to now
is littered with broken branches,
limbs that have fallen off
our family tree.

We try our best to reattach them,
stick them in a bag of ice,
stitch them to our sides.
Sometimes they fit again,
still perfect puzzle pieces,

But mostly
they atrophy,
and are too far changed.
Triangular shapes
shoved into square spaces.

And how should we feel when the pieces don't fit?
Is it odd that I feel so content?

Maybe they were a cancerous tumor
and not a benign cyst
and maybe they needed to go
so that we could function.

Maybe they were just an appendix,
an unneeded organ,
something only good for exploding,

Something that was better off
being ripped away from the rest of your guts.