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Donna May 11
When you accept some
love ones don’t care about you
Happiness Blossoms

💕
Hope everyone is healthy and safe , this one come from me just reflecting over my last year and I find this to be very true , love yourself , put yourself first , you deserve to be happy and never let other people’s judgement tell u any difference  ***
Take Care , Stay Safe
🌸💕🌸
ms reluctance Apr 28
I was a little older than six
when you came to us,
ruddy cheeked
with a shock of curly hair,
tiny fingers that wrapped
around my pinkie
and squeezed
happiness into my heart.

You were (and still are)
the epicenter
of the world forever changed.

To be honest,
my childhood began with you.
I don’t have any memories
of being anyone
before I was your sister.

I know you will say
that’s just because I’m dumb.
That’s not the case, idiot.
Mom always tells me
that I was a lonely child,
neither sad nor shy,
just content playing by myself.
I choose to think
I was waiting… for you
to join the fun.

And what fun we’ve had!
Making up dance routines
to our favorite songs;
Smuggling snacks to bed;
Adding new levels
to invented games.
Remember “Sleep, Sleep”?
Competing to see who
could pretend to sleep
without moving the longest –  
I’m sorry I tricked you, boo.
I knew you would drift off
and I’d be able to read in peace.
You caught on soon though
and I had to think of other ways
to keep you still.

So I began reading to you
from books I loved,
stories and poems,
of adventures so epic
they called the magic to the skin  
and you listened,
tickled pink.

You listened, enthralled,  
to the gibber jabber
I came up with on the spot,
often asking for more.
To this day, you listen
and pay heed
to every word,
every notion
like it is really worthy
of your attention.
NaPoWriMo Day 28
Poetry form: Free Verse
Steve Page Apr 23
The two of them staggered in
and flopped onto the worn sofa.
Neither spoke.
Neither tried.
They were just grateful for another day.
An earned break
A pause poised at their tipping point.

Chaos rose with a broken smile,
raising a slow arm,
'See you tomorrow'.

But Order was already asleep.
"Humans are odd. They think order and chaos are somehow opposites and... try to control what won't be. But there is grace in their failings." The Vision, Age of Ultron.
PS Apr 15
I never had one

The one with a moustache
The one that would pull my hair
The one with buff muscles
The one that would punch an ex
The one with the foul mouth
The one that would call me fat
The one that is cold to touch
The one that I could call a brother

But I never needed one because I had her

The one with long hair
The one that knows how to braid
The one with the superhuman strength
The one that always opens the bottle of jam
The one that is warm to touch
The one that gives the best hugs
The one that I love
The one that I call sister.
Lorena Mar 29
(As if sitting in a wooden box)

I confess.
I confess to feeling the pain of needs unmet and overlooking it,
to hearing the opening of things, the closing of them too
the confidence of a heart unbroken say "I'd like to try!"
and a cold bitter laugh in a triumph of parsimony.
I confess to doing less and allowing it in my own vulnerability.

(As if tearing a casing spun of silk)

I am a catalogist, rebuilding a place
In my defence I have known you less, but even now -
there are no reference books to your emotions or reactions
no rule of thumb except to ease anger, aid logic, clear runways.

(As if the knowing was as easy as the learning)

together we are four decades of stubbornness and pain and kindness
we are warmed feet on the black range cooker
we are the climbing wall at the fair
You are three dots, ellipsis, open-ended.
and i am writing bad poetry about a girl who can fly...
a birthday present
Madi Dinneen Mar 12
My baby sister
She is learning about the world.
She’s learning that friends come and go and come and go and
She’s learning what love isn’t.
My baby sister.
She’s in 7th grade.
She is filled with potential
Like an empty yearbook waiting to be signed she is full
Of empty pages.
My baby sister,
she likes to laugh. She makes me burst out into giggles until the two of us are gasping for air, with sore ribs and cheeks that ache from smiling.
My baby sister
She is at odds with the world.
Her emotions push at her head, her stomach, her heart longing to come out.
She likes to fight with me, throwing words like darts designed to hit me where it hurts. Bullseye.
My baby sister
Doesn’t know just how much I love her.
She is thunder storms in July crashing and stomping across the house, hours of showers etched on her face.
She is flowers in May, sweet and loving, desperate in all her bright colors to be seen.
My baby sister.
She is so much like me, it breaks my heart.
I am shattered into pieces, a broken mirror but the reflection is not mine.
It’s hers.
Together we pick up the shards of glass.
And put them back together.
Me and
My baby sister.
Mikey Kania Mar 6
last minutes of trust
in a poem made of dust
you made me hate me

feel the real injection daily
everything seems to poke
you turned into a joke

everything seems to shine
twinkle and rhyme
feel the real injection

this verse is for my protection
this verse is killing you: action!
lamps out of broken teeth

brother breaks his brother's knee
brother stabs his brother's stomach
feel the real injection

everything is for protection
turning choirboys into warriors
brother against brother

everything is an attraction
brother smashes brother's face in
brother against brother face it:

brother against brother
Today is a good day.
Mrs Timetable Feb 24
When you come back
Please bring your all
Because by then
I might forget
The things we shared
Our mother
Our father
The place we grew
In secret
Our shared life space
I will wait for you
Loss of a sibling. Not me. Just Trying to comprehend.
Mother,
forgive me,
but there’s no point
in convincing me
that he still cares
or that he, even for once,
cared about me.

Explain to me:
why is it that his eyes
would always be
full of love
and passion
until they would glance at me
and suddenly turn cold?

Tell me:
why he never entered
my suffocating room
while I was a crying mess,
falling apart
between my bedsheets?

Convince me
that I’m not
Just a mere existence to him,
Just a not-understood wreck
Just a thing he would touch
while passing by.

I have wounds that I licked
and healed
all by myself.
And I have scars that are still
hiding his name.

And although I am used
to remedy alone,
there are still some
desperately waiting
for his touch.

I would rather feel
like just a step-sister
that I am,
than being treated
like a complete stranger
or even nothing,
nothing at all.

I wish my brother loved me.
This is for you, big brother.
Sydney V Nov 2019
At thirteen,  
my sibling, my supposed partner,
in our disheveled family life  
taught me a different kind of warmth  
that comes from talking back.  
My ebullition  
was matched
with a violence that erupted
like a passionate applause  
for a trombone feature at the end  
of Mahler’s third symphony.  
Only this applause  
ended with  
a cold hand outstretched  
latching, to my wrist
as the other  
bare palm swung,  
into the lobe of my left ear
leaving behind
a warm, feverish  
crimson glow.
I tend to draw my experience from ones that are a bit personal, it's cathartic for me.
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