Beige-painted Walls

You'll always be your geeky smile.

Boy, you've gone through more phases than the moon ever dreamt of and
Darlin', you're responsible for more than your share
Of Mom's gray hair.

I used to not be able to sleep
Because you and your friends had turned up the amps
And were screaming your particular brand of communication
until the walls shook.
The memories bleed together. We were so young. We still are.

I still can't believe you got rid of your bed to make room for sound equipment.

You had Fred, the friendly female lion (whose happy home is now in my closet)
And paintball guns, BMX bikes, and a perpetual sunburn.

I seem to remember your burning incense,
The stick wedged in the heater vent of your car, soft gray ash on the volume control.
The night you drove me to that party, I didn't know if it was worse in the car or out.
There's something about red station wagons, isn't there?

Believe it or not, this is my revenge;
Plastering your face on paper, pinning you down under my ballpoint pen...
You know you've done the same to me.

There's something between us that we can't
Necessarily talk about, or even name,
And that's something Em will never understand...
I'm not the baby anymore, but, go figure, neither is she.

But as for you...you Batman-pajama-ed, homefry-making big brother,
You're not getting off this easy.