I hate you.
I hate what you did.
I hate that I trusted you.
I hate you because you took that trust and broke it.

I hate you because you took my childhood away far too soon.
I hate you because you stole my innocence without a second thought.

I hate that we share DNA.
I hate you because we share the same scars—on our skin and in our souls.
I hate you because we both sit in dark holes that were dug before we were born.

I hate you because we have the same problems, the same broken mind we inherited from Dad—
But you were weaker.
I would rather burn alive, with my own hair as kindling,
Than do what you did.

I hate you because now that you're older,
You look just like Dad—same face, same smile.
I hate the fact you can still smile, knowing what you did to me.

I hate you because I still mourn what we could’ve been.
I hate you because you made me what I am now.

I hate you
Because you used to be my older brother—
But now you’re just a man.
And I used to love you.