A little girl
half like me and half like them-
Born in the year
When my childhood would end

On the other side of the world,
somewhere far away,
in a place I've never even heard of-
She sleeps every night.

Parents of different cultures,
Nothing alike,
She shares the traits of both:
Caramel skin and chocolate eyes.

A family I've never met,
My family, my closest ones,
Across the ocean,
Out of sight.

She doesn't know me.
Half of them don't.
But the other half,
they just pretend
that they do.

But they don't really know me,
I guess, they never did,
For all my childhood years
who was I and who were they?

Then, she was born,
like nothing happened,
Nobody said anything,
everything stayed the same

Like we are not half the same,
Half related,
Half blood-connected,
Like we are nothing,
nothing at all.

She knows nothing yet,
But I do.
And they say I am too proud
To let go of the past,

But I am not proud
of me or them,
I tried to forgive
a long time ago.

I am not
Too proud
to let it go,
I just realised
They don't care
Too much
for me to try.

I didn’t see it coming that he would make me shut up.
I didn’t see it coming that he would hurt me,
pin me against the closet and make me feel
the way a child shouldn’t.

You were there, a few rooms away.
I don’t blame you, I would never.
If I had to choose, I would still go thru hell, so you could
do your Homework

- let you be child where I couldn’t

Some days, I'll just sit in my room and listen to one song on repeat.

I'll slowly make my way to my poetry, and find myself feeling more empty than poetry needs me to be.

Poetry is the letter someone spilt water on but you can still read whatever was written on it because for whatever reason the world decided to be nice for a minute.

My sister is nice too. I think you can say I've only really known her for 7 or 8 years. We were too far apart in age for me to even care she existed for the beginning of my life. And just as I get comfortable with her being here, being home...

She moves to another country.

I guess one way or another, your heroes do fly away.

My best friend is a girl named Baer. Although, I cannot tell you if I'm her best friend, she is mine.
I always seem to latch on to people who seemingly don't show a lot about how they think of me.

Maybe I just don't look hard enough, but isn't that what all self-deprecating people do? Avoid mirrors and self-image until they come to scourge it? Punching out mirrors either cuts you up or picks apart your reflection, and hey, whatever.....

It's just you.

Baer's sister is a whole other story, funny and open, far away from time to time, but wanting a hug when the time comes.

I've always been the type of person to idolize others who treat me well. Perhaps it's because I think so much of them compared to myself. But it's okay.

I would do anything for them.

I'm so full of everything for the people who are everything to me.

And for myself... I'm no hero.
Capes just aren't my style.

When I call you
my little sister,
it means I’ve loved you
since the moment you
jaywalked into my life
chattering louder and longer
than all of the rest.

It means you’ve always had
at least two voices
during any battle against mom
and an occasionally great Uber driver
if you requested me before 8pm.

We may have came
from the same DNA
but it’s clear I was our parents’ first-draft;
while you are the final, printed version             
bursting from the pages
wide-eyed and enthusiastic.

You my dear sister
have never walked in my shadow….
you wear glowing shoes
that I even borrow sometimes
and I wouldn’t want it any other way.

I yearn to give you everything
That they do not give you,
I want to give you rest and comfort,
As I help you pull through.
If you need taking care of,
I'd promise I'd be there -
But you're so far away,
I feel like I'm not there.

Miles may separate us,
But in my heart I hold you close,
And if I had the chance,
I'd never let you go.

I spend parts of my days,
Planning out ways,
Of how to get you back.
I know you wouldn't mind it much,
But there's always obstacles in attack.

I think you are okay, or at least on the surface,
I have to make myself trust
That you are happy in that family,
That I've been taken out of.

Knowing from experience though,
It will probably hurt one day,
Or at least for the oldest of you.
And I will wrap you up warm
And try to empathise,
Never the less, I will try my best
To bandage it all up and make it the most it can be.

And if you wanted, I'd hide you away and bring you everything you need.
For me general daily things are hard, if socialisation's involved,
But I'd try my best for you,
Because that's what you're supposed to do
For the people that you love, for family.

Lately I've felt that they're stealing you all,
That they're cutting me out.
Our mother only wants me on her terms,
And that's not how it should be;
I would walk over mountains for you, you see.
I can't come to you, but I have tried getting you to me.

Still, I worry that one day,
You'll think I gave up,
You'll think that I left you
And nothing could ever make that true.
I will always try to do what's right by you.

I don't want you seeing the wreckage before you need to,
Before you can handle it.
I need to know you're safe, not sorry.
I'm starting to wonder here, if maybe I'm just being dramatic.
But this is some of the reason that I pretend or hide it,
With the act of being a somewhat good daughter,

Well really it's also because:
It's hard not to do the job when you're with her,
Almost as if it pulls something from me;
Like it's my fault for not having what I want,
And if I'm good in that moment I'll have it.
Except it,
Never comes.

I miss you four,
And I'll always love you more.