back when we  met, under our breath at the piano, who knew we'd be brothers 
back when we met, you at the piano, fugues in your hands, who knew?
i thought you were full of yourselves. who knew i was too 
full of fire, full of emptiness—flames with nothing to burn, i consumed myself. there was collateral damage, but it happened again

the three musketeers is a story about four companions. we carry our fourth friend in us and on us. that might have been our first taste of reality.

fast forward 

you've grown up in ways i couldn't have imagined. i cried when we reunited. you're both where you belong, i can be found wandering the desert. 

how can words express this? oh how i now understand writing a book called lamentations.