I learned a lot about you today
and, let's just say, I feel pretty bad
not because of the things you did, I'm sad because I had no clue.
Sitting like I used to, with my Kellies, Barbies, and Kens
I paid no mind to how awful you used to dress,
how your blowout was always a mess,
or how you left our family stressed to clean up your mistakes
Yes, I had my fake and imaginary friends but you're 9 years older than me and had them too
I just wish I could've helped you through that time
the time when jail cells closed you in and trapped the smoke inside your lungs
like how every morning, I wash my face, teeth, and tongue
you would watch your back as you packed your bae, Mary Jane into your bag and hoped not to get caught.
And my 7-year-old thoughts couldn't have done anything to help
but, a couple years later, you gave up the kelp that lit YOU and smoked YOU until you were gone
But here you are, making songs and listening to the poems I write
and may I be right to say that I'm not 7 and you're not 17 anymore
the door of your false happiness has shut
but you're my brother and I love you
I just wish I could've been there for you sooner.