In my family, I am in the middle.
Stuck between two tall towers that are my
younger sister and my older brother.
My sister is still too young for chores and cooking.
She is content to play and giggle with her friends.
She is concerned with nothing.
My brother’s forehead is creased with worry like our father’s.
He has forgotten how to laugh.
“You don’t know how to have fun anymore,” I tell him.
“You are too busy trying to be a man.”
“I am a man,” he replies, chest out.
My father watches me.
He knows.
He knows that I know.
Everything is changing.