My Brother

I hate him

Not with the hatred of fire

Or the scary strength of the sea

The anger of falling stars 

Or the explosion of planets

But the simmering of oil

The high whistle of a tea kettle 

And the annoyance of dissonant singing

Paired with the scraping of a fork

I hate him

But hate is so strong

Strong for a few moments it

encompasses my entire being

My head swims in it, drowns in it shortly

After

Making me stare glassy, wetly

At the damage I had caused