I saw you today,
something about it didn’t seem right.
We sat together on that indoor porch,
like usual,
but something was off.
It wasn’t our front porch,
it was only yours.

Your birthday passed a couple weeks ago,
I didn’t come see you -
we had a fight the night before.
But fights never affected us,
the way this one did.
It’s my fault you said,
my fault that we fought,
my fault that we don’t get along,
because it’s never yours.

I barely see you anymore,
and it hurts me to admit that I miss you.
Because sometimes we fight,
sometimes we yell
and we don’t want to see each other.
But I miss our arguments,
I miss the way that things used to be.
Even after a night of yelling,
I could come to you with tears in my eyes
and you’d comfort me -
I don’t have that anymore.
You have me,
my love,
my support,
but I no longer have yours.

Now,
if I want to see you,
I have to drive 10 minutes.
I have to knock on someone else’s door
that isn’t mine,
and stand there awkwardly while
the dog barks at me.
Because it’s not my dog,
it’s not my door,
it’s not my house.
It’s yours.

I no longer live with you,
instead I live with someone new.
I can’t text you,
call you -
the phone service you picked
doesn’t reach their house,
but of course it’s perfect
in yours.

You blame me for the distance,
saying,
you know,
you’re sister is always around.
I’m not my sister,
nor will I ever be.
I’m just me,
and lately it’s like thats not good enough
for you in that new house
that’s not ours.
Cause it’s yours.

We used to sit for hours,
talking about nothing in particular.
You were my best friend
and I was yours.
Tell me we don’t have the same relationship
anymore,
tell me it’s changed.
Tell me it’s my fault
that we don’t talk anymore.
Tell me I need to make an effort,
but you’re not making yours.

Its your new life,
and that’s fine.
Because I have mine,
and you have yours.
You took me out of your facebook profile,
no longer have a place for me.
Your profile picture
and cover,
are of another family.
A family that’s not mine,
but a family that’s yours.

Constantly telling me that my siblings miss me,
as if I don’t miss them as well.
Making me feel like ****
for decisions you made.
Because I never wanted to leave,
but you chose him over me -
and I had to do what’s best for me.
This is about me,
it’s not about you anymore.
This is my life,
and I’m no longer apart of yours.