30/30 Day One-Brother

BROTHER

My brother is talented, but he doesn't understand that the spoken word he speaks, speaks to me.
He doesn't understand that the tears he sheds and the blood he bleeds is mine. Because I don't break down the walls an doors or the glasses of windows he feels that I don't know, but I do.
I know what he feels and how the waves of pain hit like the plane crashes of 9-11.
I know when he feels hurt because I feel it too. And yet because I don't scream to the heavens and damn hell he wonders why I don't see what he sees or feel what he feels and he doesn't understand.
He doesn't understand how I could possibly deal with these discombobulated parents and crazy ass kids wit a smile.
How could you possibly look the way you do and no know what I feel.
I do the, the things I do are for you, there for those two little girls that need me.
When i push through our fucked up lives with a strong head and fake ass smile it's because I know what you feel.
I Understand what you pain is and where it comes from.
While I sit in this class motivated by your poem that you call change my paper bleeds.
Now my brother stand up and know that what what we feel is pain and we gone make it.