Tip toed to the fridge
Thinking I was the only one guilty of committing the crime
But he is already there

I can't sleep I whispered

Silence.

He doesn't hear me through sips of liquor
The eerily soft glow illuminating his face
Accentuating deep forehead wrinkles

Of course he doesn't need to hear me
He feels it too
The sins of having a fraternal twin
Pain felt by one (always burdened both)