Wednesday, August 3, 2011

Ah, the joys of having a sibling

I sit, centered, cocooned blankets, en masse.
Black hoodied-silence, ponder breathlessly how perfectly you mocked me.
...On our way home before we would leave to pick up the knives that were left to be sharpened...

Ironic metaphor, meta-rivalry, meta-escapist.
I never met a brother quite like you, man.
Punctured through the gauzy film I spread around my head to avoid the nasty words said
By you.

Rollin' like a big shot, not caught, fightin' words all crisscrossed,
X'n through my ears like lead, hot.
And here I thought,
that we were...

Was it mature that I didn't lash back?

I sit, feel the mist, rise up to meet my eyes, my fist.
I never met a brother quite like you, man.

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