Apr 2014
As glided from separate parts of the Earth into a sea of splinting wood works to build an exceptional story of "yearned for" glamour. We are as one through spirits. As the morning glory of singing chirps fulfill our drums with the booms and baps that awaken us, a smell is rising in our minds.
Of eggs and crackles of bacon.
As younger cookie cutter forms of us, we never knew of our imminent and "promised" future us. Not knowing anything past of what we hoped the year's end would bring. We were of laughter echoed through, what we didnt know, a false home. Only false to those who gave us light. But truth to you and I because our laughter covered the impurity.
As exact opposites of black and white. Or light and dark. We had nothing to tie us but the blood that ran through our veins.
We were destined to be joined by incestuous paths and I remember, as of yesterday, the day you were born. The proud emotion that ran through me, I didnt quite understand at that age but it's an emotion I will never forget. You were my little sister.
The scar above your left eyebrow from falling and busting your head. Or the only time you made my nose bleed. The nights of dancing to the soundtrack Valley Girl. The performances we'd put on. The decorating and fighting of the Christmas tree, which you always won. (It's because you were younger.) Or our snowball fights, the cooking of hot dogs on the wood stove when the power went out. The forts! The most aweeeeeesome forts!
The humorous antics of picking on you, punching you, but first to stand in our two lady army are tiny memories of which I wish we had more. Of which I recall upon when I text you and tell you I miss you.
As times have moved along with the changing of seasons our lives have drifted. We the meaning of strangers. I find myself tearing in your absence and wishing we were more than just the same blood in our veins.
I wish we were best friends.
As pages turn in our chapters of dawdling stories, ocean erased footprints, and regrets we say we "dont" regret, we are growing further. Distancing the strain that pulls us together, they werent the only things to divorce.
Of eggs and crackles of bacon.
As younger cookie cutter forms of us, we never knew of our imminent and "promised" future us. Not knowing anything past of what we hoped the year's end would bring. We were of laughter echoed through, what we didnt know, a false home. Only false to those who gave us light. But truth to you and I because our laughter covered the impurity.
As exact opposites of black and white. Or light and dark. We had nothing to tie us but the blood that ran through our veins.
We were destined to be joined by incestuous paths and I remember, as of yesterday, the day you were born. The proud emotion that ran through me, I didnt quite understand at that age but it's an emotion I will never forget. You were my little sister.
The scar above your left eyebrow from falling and busting your head. Or the only time you made my nose bleed. The nights of dancing to the soundtrack Valley Girl. The performances we'd put on. The decorating and fighting of the Christmas tree, which you always won. (It's because you were younger.) Or our snowball fights, the cooking of hot dogs on the wood stove when the power went out. The forts! The most aweeeeeesome forts!
The humorous antics of picking on you, punching you, but first to stand in our two lady army are tiny memories of which I wish we had more. Of which I recall upon when I text you and tell you I miss you.
As times have moved along with the changing of seasons our lives have drifted. We the meaning of strangers. I find myself tearing in your absence and wishing we were more than just the same blood in our veins.
I wish we were best friends.
As pages turn in our chapters of dawdling stories, ocean erased footprints, and regrets we say we "dont" regret, we are growing further. Distancing the strain that pulls us together, they werent the only things to divorce.
