My Brother

i have a half brother, well let me rephrase that...
i have an older brother
the branches of our tree may have crossed,
but we still are of the same fruit
so, my big brother loves vw beetles
ever since he was a kid he had a fascination for them
it started with just one
saved his money to buy one old and beat up, broken down bug
took it apart piece by piece, seeing what made it tick
what was wrong with it
then would put it back together again
always better than before
soon the garage would spill over with his tinkering
parts everywhere
but somehow always knew where they went and to what car
he constantly came up with grand ideas for winning contests and making money
he loved building rockets and just being the bad boy
i don't know if it was out of rebellion or out of pain
at the age of 3, he had to relearn names
grandmother was now mommy
mommy was now sister
and i was now neice, though i wasn't born yet
he learned quickly what deception meant
even at the tender age of 3
when he should of felt unconditional love
bitterness and anger painted his lil boy room in the perfect shade of blue
he quickly became my favorite uncle
showed me fascinating things
taught me how to play secret games in the basement
he never played them though when grandma was around
he wasn't a bad kid
just disconnected, missing parts like his cars
alcohol and drugs became the lubricant
but no matter how many times he pulled himself apart
he could never put all the pieces back together
better
and it didn't matter how much money he made
he could never afford his own self worth
its been awhile since we've talked to one another
cards are sent with i love you's and pictures
showing just how much life keeps going
whether you choose to live it or not
the last time i saw him was a few years ago,
the pain still lingering just behind his eyes
he constantly ran his fingers thru his hair
as if trying to brush the past away
we never spoke of basement games out loud
we clasped hands like his was a lock and mine were the key
'forgive me' hung tightly to his lashes
soft blinks pryed them free
each word fell gently into our lock and key
we rolled the yesterdays up with some weed
looked at the stars
pondering the meaning of it all
and smoked it away
even if it was temporary
several times he has tried to reconnect with our mother

he has heard the rooster crow much too often

as she wears the skin of Judus in the lining of her coat
to shield her from the bitterly cold Canadian winds
the umbilicus has been severed
i understand now why he seemed so angry
why he loved and hated me all at once
i got to go home with his mommy
and she never looked back
because if she had
she would have had to face her reflection in those beautiful angry eyes of his
and she would of seen herself splinter into a million shards of regret
but he would of scooped every piece in his hands
ignoring the pain piercing his flesh
would of spent hours trying to put her back together again
this time better
this time holding his hand too