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Oct 2020
I killed all my plants by watering them too much.
I got so upset, I turned into a grumpy old man, shoUsing at people to stay away from my yard.
Still my sisters walk on the grass and I'm so glad they are

We don't share our blood: I have chosen my sisters and they have chosen me.
They are my sisters because they saw a present and not a parcel bomb, they weren't scared to open me up.

We are sisters because we've built a home from nothing, a family out of thin air.
We are sisters of the moon, witches, like in a cheesy TV series.
We bottle up each other's tears and brew potions to cure broken hearts.

We are each other's therapists, cooks, seamstresses, teachers, painters, muses.
Each other's conscience, speaking the hard truth, each other's mirror: reflecting the same image, yet one we wouldn't be able to see for ourselves.
Written by
Martina  20/F/Cornwall
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