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Right before his car crashed in to the old oak tree,

I saw him scream, I saw him cry, I saw him turn inside out.

I know my twin brother better than the girls he tricks to his treats,

Girls that leave him with scratch marks on his back like a cat to post.

He was there when I was born, I was there when he learned to kiss,

He was there when I played my first recital, I was there at his death.

I'm always with him, I don't have to know where he is, or even see him.

Look through a forest and you know the birds are singing, but not seen.

So as I stared at him through the eye piece of shared DNA prior death,

He answered a call from our mother with troubling news about me.

His twin brother, myself, had just come out of the closet, and it was all

His fault, the fighting, the name calling, the harassing, the banter;

At least that is what was going through his mind. I wouldn't know.

I only felt his pain through the love of two brothers, two, but one.