"My mother warned me about smoking cigarettes, so I never put a cancer stick between my teeth. But she forgot to mention the boys with dark eyes and smiles that make you weak in the knees. The funny thing about addiction is you don't know you're hooked until it leaves. It's been three years. But how can I move on when there are still traces of you in my lungs, leaving no room for me to breathe?"
-Kahla Mercadante

Sisters are eternal best friends. They are suppose to love each other through thick and thin.

Sometimes a sister is the only person you feel like you can talk to.
Other times, shes the reason you can't talk to anyone.
They are suppose to be the person that you can trust most.
Sometimes they are the ones who take your ability to trust.
They're the only one that can make you laugh when you're ready to cry.
Or maybe they're the only ones that can make you cry.

It doesn't matter to me, what kind of sister you are. You could hate me- cut me off- not speak to me for years

But the second you need me- I'll be right there.
I'll always come back to you.

when i was a little girl
i thought my daddy hung the moon
he worked a lot
but i had the best daddy in the world

when i got a little older
i started to go to my friends' house to play
and i saw their daddies
their daddies were home every day and night
their daddies loved their mommies
their daddies had time for their little girls
but maybe
my daddy just worked a lot. . .

when i was barely a teen
my mommy died
a week later
my dad brought over a new mommy
(but daddy loved mommy)
my dad started telling me lies
(i don't think daddy lied to me..)
my dad has more time for his girlfriends than he does for me
(daddy's only girls were mommy and me)

in my last year of high school
my father left and bought a house
1,102 miles away
he still thinks he's daddy.

what is it about you that has me constantly wondering how your world is at any precise or very imprecise moment

you are consistent in that sense

you seem to sprint through my mind
long enough for me to acknowledge it is you, but not long enough for me to figure out what the reason behind it is

or the copious knowledge of your day to day to be able to pinpoint what it is that you could be doing at that moment…

drives me mad.... you, the thought of you, the realization of the thought of you...

Here she comes walking
The silent steps that hover on egg shells
Velvet incarnation
Her every word is where my mind dwells
There she goes walking
My body must be made of glass
Her eyes stay set forward
and I shatter with her pass

She says, “I'm too tall”
Because she thinks she is too big to be held
She says, “I hate my voice”
Because she can only hear herself in recordings
She says, “I don’t know what I'm doing”
Because she can’t see past her shortcomings

But what she doesn't know is that with her head up to my chin she is the perfect size to fall into my arms and be wrapped in an embrace bigger than her insecurities
Or that the low, velvet tone of her voice that dances from her lips could never be captured by a video
Or that her imperfections cower in the face of her all her strengths

And she doesn't know
That I do.