vivid is may
all those
five
point
five
years
ago.
layered over now
with flowers enameled
to a hard polish.
my life. the life i built.
i couldn't scratch the
surface of yours not with
my bone brittle finger-
nails.
i tried.
i daydreamed. could
i belong? could
i be a part of your
family? odd as
i am? as unlike you as
i am? your answer
blew cold in every
direction, every shutting
down, every shutting
out.
i can't belong if
i don't conform if
i can't stay silent if
i don't mouth the party
line. welp. i
couldn't i
wouldn't i
didn'tÂ
and
you turned that
label inside
out. who am i?
nothing of yours.
i won't be cruel.
i won't be bitter.
you were right about
some things. there wasn't
enough love there for me.
my friends say not to think
about what you might say if
you could see what i've built,
who and how i love, where i work,
what i do. why should your opinion matter?
you summed it up in that ice
blue icing, written in those
whorled words, you're
you wrote
'You're a
shitty
sister.'
most people, i think, are born into their
families. the rest of us have to find them.
i found mine.
who's to say
who has the luckier
heart?
March 11, 2021
