hermano numero dos.

i couldn't have wished this
on you.
our similarities run
thick as my conscience
and you'll mistake
my corners for misunderstanding,
but, baby boy,
don't cry to momma please.
my abrasiveness might
have been childish
because it seemed
so instinctive
and i came close
to asking
for forgiveness
you were the only reason
i could ever feel guilty
hating my reflection.

(*maybe a beginning)