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Februa Ganymede Apr 2021
oh superior sister
Aren't you tired
of being a terror sister?

Elder sister, elder sister
your Lil sister wants to play
why don't you try to be a benevolent big sister?

oh Common,
big sister, big sister
show who you are
big sister, big sister
why don't you try
play with your Lil sister
For my sister who is not biologically my sister.
For my sister who has helped me through so much.
You, the beautiful creature who has time and time again cleaned my blood off the bathroom floor, bandaged my wrists, and stayed up all night to keep me alive.
You, the magnificent woman who gets put down everyday.

For my sister who is not legally my sister.
You, who has been more maternal and has shown me more love than my own mother ever has.
Who has stuck her fingers down my throat and made me wretch up the bottle of pills that I swallowed because I thought they would take me to a place that would make me happy.
You who has loved me more than I love myself.

For my sister who’s favorite type of alcohol is *****.
You who drinks it not because you love the taste, but because you drink it for the punishing bitter taste of it.
You who drinks it to forget your father who never really acted like a father.

For my sister who starves herself every day because her mother told her that she would prettier if she was thinner.
You who is the most loving person I know, that does not think she is worthy of love.
You, the most empowering person I know, who cannot empower herself right now.

For my sister who is currently lying in a hospital bed right now because I was not there for her.
You look so thin and fragile among the blankets and IV tubes. If you were conscious right now, you would say that you look like a lesbian in your hospital gown.
For the teenage girl who has seen more of hell than she has heaven, and still manages to be an angel to everyone she meets.

For my sister who is not in any way, shape or form related to me.
You have been more of family to me than I will ever know.
Copyright © 2015 by Kathleen McSweeney
Unknown Feb 2020
“Are you Proud?”

Are you proud, proud of the thing you created?
Are you happy, knowing your little girl, your middle daughter is breaking?
Are you excited, when I can hear you in what is supposed to the safety of my home, yelling?
Are you glad, when I cower in fear beneath my blankets, because I can’t stand the screams?
Are you euphoric, when I blend into the silence in between your conversations because that is where I feel safest?
Are you okay, when I say “I’m fine,” with a smile so wide it hurts and my eyes go dull?
Are you alright, as unknown to you I have monsters in my closet that comfort me more than you ever will, when you scream and shout at one another?

Are you Proud?

Do you sleep well at night, knowing that the sister I have grown up with hates me?
Do you go about your day, knowing that I don’t want to suffer any longer but for some reason I still do?
Do you relax well in the comfort of the couch, knowing that what little life I have left in me is feeble and fading?
Do you wake up in the morning believing the lies I tell you to keep you happy?
Do you know that reason I smile and make jokes is so I can keep the attention off of myself and not crumble beneath your expectations?
Do you realize that everything I do is to make life easier for you?
Don’t you see how I try to be mature because my father is an alcoholic child, my mother acts like violence is the answer to disobedience, my little sister hates every fiber of my being because I’m “not suffering like she is”, my big sister acts like she knows what she’s doing like she is perfect and that anything and everything we will ever to is against her.

Are you Proud?

Father, know that I don’t blame you for the things you have done to us.
Know that I don’t blame you for the cigarettes smoked on the couch nor  the boxes of beer your drink.
Father, I want to love you but I need to know you love me too, before you break what little of me is left.
Know that I wouldn’t blame you if you chose to do so.
Father, I know life is hard, especially for you but I am begging you, don’t make life impossible for me.
Know that every shout that escaped your lips is another cut that scars my skin.
Father, I love you, but I don’t know how long such words will last before they become the lies that I tell myself as I cry silently and alone in the dead of night.

Mother, know that I don’t blame you for the things you did to us.
Know that I don’t blame you for the slaps, the punches or the ignorance as to how and what we feel.
Mother, I want to love you but I need to know that you love all of us.
Know that I can’t blame you if one day you decided not to love me anymore because of something I did.
Mother, I know life is hard, we’ve heard your stories time and time again.
Know that every tear that escapes your eyes because of something I did, is another night I spend hating myself for being pain upon you.
Mother, I love you, but I love Father as well, and I need to know you won’t make me choose between the two of you.

Big sister, know that I don’t blame you for running away.
Know that I don’t blame you for all the times a fight has started because you were mentioned.
Big sister, I want to love you but I need to know that you still think of us as family.
Know that I just want all of us to be happy, together.
Big sister, I want to love you but I need to know that you won’t blame or hate us at every turn.

Little sister, know that I don’t blame you for hating me, truly I hate myself as well.
Know that I don’t blame you for all the things you’ve said to and about me, all the things you’ve done to me.
Little sister, I want to love you but I need to know that you won’t scream or shout every time I try to comfort you.
Know that I wouldn’t blame you if one day you decided to kick me out of your life and ignore my existence entirely.
Little sister, I know life is hard, especially in the world that we live in today but I am begging you, do not push me so close to the edge only to laugh as I jump off the edge and hope for release from your torment.
Know that every insult, every joke about me being the favorite child, every glare cuts deeper and deeper, and I fear my only choice is to lay down my life and bleed out from the wounds that you have inflicted upon me.
Little sister, I love you, but I don’t know how long I can keep telling myself that when you do nothing but prove my words to be untrue.

Are you Proud?

Father, Are you Proud of the way we cower in fear when you begin to yell?
But I don’t blame you for doing so.

Mother, Are you Proud of the way you stress us with your expectations?
But know I don’t blame you for wanting the best for us.

Big sister, Are you Proud of the way that you left us without you?
But know I don’t blame you for wanting to escape.

Little sister, Are you Proud of the way that your words hurt me so?
But know I don’t blame you for hating me.

Are you Proud?

Dear future me, know that I won’t blame you if you don’t make it to  18 years of age because you couldn’t handle life anymore and you chose to take refuge in the comforting embrace of death.
Know that I won’t blame you for all the bad choices that you are bound to make because of what I do now that makes your life miserable.
Dear future me, I want to love you, but I’m not sure I can. I have no idea, none that I could even fathom as to what kind of person you will be, I want to be proud of you but knowing me, I’ll never be proud of you.
Know that I don’t blame you if you resent me, I don’t resent the younger person I used to be, rather it’s pity that a child so small grew up to be such a disappointment.
Dear future me, I know that life is hard, believe me I know, I can only imagine how much worse it’s going to get for you,  so future me, no matter how close you are to today, thank you for waking up in the morning.
Know that every up has a down, but not every down has an up. Not all even plots of earth stays flat and earthquakes are bound to happen.
Dear future me, I love you, you might not believe it but I do. Know that no matter how much you hate yourself, I love you. I love you for waking up in the morning, for getting through each and every day even when it feels like there is a weight on your entire body that you never get used to. Still, know that as of today, the younger version of you truly loves you no matter how much you grow to despise your every fiber of your existence.

Dear dead me, death is not something that one can escape, so thank you for holding out for  however long you did. I have only two things to ask you.

1) Did I die on my own terms? Because I refuse to be a byproduct of something out of my control. And secondly...

Are you Proud?
Eric W Jan 2014
Dear Sister,
Not Jessica, never Jessica
because we were never on a first name basis.
It was always so much more,
Sister.
My wonderful sister,
you have been my mother, my guide,
my friend, my crying shoulder, my rock,
my humor, my support. You have been
everything.
My sister.
And my only regret is that I can't be more,
I'm sorry.
Oh, Sister,
how I look back on our memories with such fondness.
The laughs we shared, the wonderful books,
and mind-blowing smoke.
The long talks about philosophy and politics.
We have always been ahead in those regards,
haven't we?
My lovely sister,
you took my hand when I was lost, when life
had become too much for me,
and showed me the path. You set me up
to become who I am, and who I will be.
I know you are proud.
You helped me discover what was important,
guided my moral compass when I trespassed,
taught me to love.
You made me see
things I never would have alone,
and consider ideas that the general public
frown upon. We've always been ahead.
Oh, Sister. My Sister.
May you live on
forever.
In my heart, and through me,
in the hearts of others who know not of
your presence,
dear sister.
"SISTER, sister, go to bed!
Go and rest your weary head."
Thus the prudent brother said.

"Do you want a battered hide,
Or scratches to your face applied?"
Thus his sister calm replied.

"Sister, do not raise my wrath.
I'd make you into mutton broth
As easily as **** a moth"

The sister raised her beaming eye
And looked on him indignantly
And sternly answered, "Only try!"

Off to the cook he quickly ran.
"Dear Cook, please lend a frying-pan
To me as quickly as you can."

And wherefore should I lend it you?"
"The reason, Cook, is plain to view.
I wish to make an Irish stew."

"What meat is in that stew to go?"
"My sister'll be the contents!"
"Oh"
"You'll lend the pan to me, Cook?"
"No!"

Moral: Never stew your sister.
Megan VanKo Sep 2017
Dearest Sister,
How come you only think about yourself?

Our dog died and you kicked me out of the room because you wanted to be alone with him
What about me?

You got to sit there for hours with him, holding him as he fell into a sleep he wouldn’t wake up from
But I was sitting in the car
With a Dad that was on the phone with everybody and anybody
Trying to hold it in for as long as I could without breaking apart in front of him.

Dearest Sister,
How come you only think about yourself?

How come you tried to make yourself feel better about kicking me out?
I’m your little sister.
You’re supposed to protect me not break me.

Dearest Sister,
How come you never liked me?

I was only a kid and my first memory of you
Was of you being mean.

Dearest Sister,
Why are people so mean?

You were mean to me
So I was mean to you
And neither of us were willing to fix it
And now it’s too late.

Dearest Sister,
Why is our family so dysfunctional?

Why did you dangle your depression over our parents heads like it was a noose
And if they ever told you not to do something you would kick the chair out from under your feet?

Why did you think that was okay?

Dearest Sister,
You say that you can’t stand being home
So you’re always out
Hanging with your friends,
Driving down the countryside.

What about me?

Have you ever even thought about me?
About how much I needed to escape the mess that is home?

Dearest Sister,
I’m sorry but you messed up.

You ruined any chance of a relationship with me.
The things you have done are toxic to me
And I think about them all of the time.

So now I’m thinking about myself.
I love you,
But I don’t.

Goodbye forever,
Your lonely little sister.
Two different people are "talked to" in this poem
A bond that can't be broken
Sister's a love that can't be broken
Sister's a word that can't be broken
Sister's sharing clothes
Sister's sharing make-up
Sister's sharing advice
Sister's sharing a common ground
Sister's old
Sister's young
Sister's a bond that be broken
Sister's a love that can't be broken
Sister's a word that can't be broken

I love my sister's by blood by loyalty
Marian May 2013
Like a gazelle she ballets with gracefulness
Like a ballerina
Dancing to Dance of the Little Swans
With beauty and grace
Oh let me see thy fair face,
Sweet sister of mine
Let me watch you ballet gracefully
Through woods, fields, and meadows
She sleeps soundly in a bed of ferns
Oh sweet sister of mine
With the most prettiest satin wings you ever saw
And a pretty pink flowing gown
And soft pale pink ballet slippers
With the most pristine pink ribbons
Tied around her delicate ankles
She ballets, Oh sister of mine
With a crown of baby rosebuds on her
Head
And rosettes on her gown
She dances with delight, Oh, fair sister of mine
She dances even more beautifully
And gracefully
Than the yellow sunflowers
Of gold that waltz in fields and meadows
Dance for me, Oh fair sister of mine
Dance to me on hills of sublime green
Dance, Oh, beautiful sister of mine
Ballet for me gracefully like the
Lotus ballets upon the sapphire lake
Ballet Oh, sweetest sister of mine
Waltz for me in a field of dancing flowers
Waltz for me, Oh, dear sister of mine
I love you, oh, graceful sister of mine

*~Marian~
Written for my sweet sis, Adreiska Moonlight!!! Ballet to Beethoven's Moonlight Sonata played by piano in the Moonlight which dances through my room. But you, dearest sis, can ballet much more finer than Moonlight!!! Because you are those rays!!!! :) ~<3
Tegan Jun 2021
My sister, soft and kind,
Used to love having her toes dug in the sand.
Myself, I complained;
The sand itched me
And felt as though it ran in my veins.

My sister would purr
About the enigmatic green world all around her.
I stayed indoors.
(I never, though, threw ******* on the floor).

My sister loved to walk:
Pavement, fields, mountains,
She'd walked the East Coast to the West,
Non-stop,
Staying in wind battered farmhouses for rest.

I hated walking.
I would run and hide behind century-old walls
That had crumbled in the middle of moors,
To roll skimpy wet cigarettes
And blow billowing purple clouds.

My sister never smoked,
She did love to smell fresh sticky tobacco, though.

When she had walked the breadth of this island
Her hair had only just grown back.
We played a bit of fantasy,
I pretended to like all these things,
Only for a while,
And only a little late.

I once again complain about the sand,
But now her blood is mixed into that.
And those last tangible bits of her -
The bones ground down -
Sit in the sodden earth
Beneath a with young tree.

I hate all these things.

But my sister,
The bit of her that was actually my mother;
Not all those god awful bits around her,
But her.
That is what I miss.
Not the final six years of miseryy,
Not the world where she came and left,
Not the shadow or impression,
Not the charade we played of loving nature.
But my sister,
My sister,
My sister.

...

The world is still the same:
The sand is still coarse,
That green enigma hasn't changed course,
Those century old walls -
Well, guess what?
They're still on the Moors.

None of those once beloved things,
And there are many I can't face bringing
To mention,
Watched my sister gargle her last breath.
Neither did they sit there years before and recognise
Her body melting and withering away.

I won't love these things in her memory,
They don't deserve that kind of reverie.

My sister was much like my mother,
And like every eldest daughter,
I didn't love or do enough.
But,
Neither did the world.
AM
Zev Sharma Dec 2020
Perfect for each other

Sister, sister, sister,
Sometimes so nice,
Sister, sister, sister
Sometimes like a twister

We’ve been through thick and thin
There for each other like true friends
I’ll be your safety pin
Protecting all your odds and ends

We are the perfect team
You are my shining gleam
We are like pancakes and whipped cream
So perfect for each other
Yeah…

We are perfect for each other
I will always be your brother
Anytime you call for help
I will be there whenever

We are perfect for each other
Just like bread and butter
Anytime you are in trouble
I will help you recover


Sister, sister, sister
Sometimes an assistor
Sister, sister, sister
Sometimes just like a resistor

We quarrel every day
But stay angry at each other, no way
I am there to make sure everything is okay
You just always remember I am by your side
Even if I don’t feel like, I will always try

We are the perfect duo
You mean the world to me, ya know
We are like heads and tails
So perfect for each other
Yeah…

We are perfect for each other
I will always be your brother
Anytime you call for help
I will be there when you stutter

We are perfect for each other
Just like bread and butter
Anytime you quiver
I will be your caregiver

I will be your brother
You will always be my sister
We are little like one another
And yet each other’s cloud cover

Perfect indeed
Oh we are perfect together
Reha Oct 2020
Happy Birthday, My Super Star Sister
From the day you were born,
I've watched you grow In this life,
Into the nicest person one could know.
Love changes everything, words oh so true;
My world changed the moment when we both became sisters, me and you.
A baby sister who captured my heart,
At the first moment we decided to take birth together.
As you have said to me many times in the past,
Perhaps we decided who will be first and who will be last.
No matter how many storms or chaos comes our way Nothing and no one can tear us apart;
That goes for all those who love you to bits,
Even they cannot break what we have built.
We have had good times and bad times too,
With new memories to make.
Especially when we do fight and we may not tell each other everything;
Reh and Rose will always shine together Like the Sun and Stars that always shine bright.
You light up a room, soon as you appear.
A gift to the world, So precious and dear.
My sister and friend, A true bond forever,
I always love all the moments,
And the time we spend together.
May this special day and all days after Be filled with abundant love and laughter.
Every moment a moment to treasure For a sister who brings so much pleasure.
Never change from the woman that you are.
To us sisters! you are a "Super Star!"
Thanks for staying close to my soul and heart Even though we were staying far apart.
You always kept me in your heart and mind.
A sister like you takes many lives to find.
We may not be sisters by blood but be beyond, Soul sisters that we're born together with an unbreakable bond.
Happy Birthday to My Birth Buddy,
My Childhood friend, My Better Half,
My Younger Soul Sister Rose
I'd just like to say,
You're one in a million,
And I'm glad I can share my day with you.
Have a wonderful day.
Happy Birthday Sister!
My Sweetheart God Bless You On Our And My Birthday.
Song one
This is a song about tarzanic love
That subsisted some years ago,
As a love duel between an English girl and an African ogre,
There was an English girl hailing along the banks of river Thames
She had stubbornly refused all offers for marriage,
From all the local English boys, both rich and poor
tall and short, weak or strong, ugly and comely in the eye,
the girl had refused and sternly refused the treats for love,
She was disciplined to her callous pursuit of her dream
to marry a mysterious,fantastic,lively,original and extra-ordinary man,
That no other woman in history of human marriage ever married,
She came from London, near the banks of river Thames,
Her name was Victoria Goodhamlet Lovehill, daughter of a peasant,
She came from a humble English family, which hustled often
For food, clothing, and other calls that make one an ordinary British,
She grew up without a local boy friend, anywhere in the English world,
She is the first English girl to knock the age of forty five while a ******,
She never got deflowered in her teens as other English girls usually do
She preserved her purse with maximal carefulness in her wait for a black man,
Her father, of course a peasant, his trade was human barber and horse shearer,
Often asked her what she wants in life before her marriage, which man she really wanted,
Her specification was an open eyesore to her father; no blinkers could stave the father’s pale
For she wanted a black tall man, strong and ruggedly dark in the skin, must own a kingdom,
Fables taken to her from Africa were that such an African man was only one but none else,
His glorious name was Akhatembete kho bwibo khakhalikha no bwoya,
When the English girl heard the chimerical name of her potential husband,
She felt a super bliss in her spine; she yearned for the day of her rendezvous,
She crashed into desperate burning for true English love
With a man with a wonderful name like Akhatembete kho bwibo khakhalikha no bwoya.


Song two

Rumours of this English despair and dilemma for love reached Africa, in the wrong ears,
Not the human ears, but unfortunately the ears of the ogres, seasoned in the evil art,
It was received and treated as classified information among the African ogress,
They prevented this news to leak to African humans at all at all
Lest humans enjoy their human status and enjoy most
The love in the offing from the English girl,
They thus swiftly plotted and ployed
To lure and win the ******
From royal land;
England.




Song three

Firstly, the African ogres recruited one of their own
The most handsome middle aged male ogre, more handsome than all in humanity,
And of course African ogres are beautiful and handsome than African humans, no match,
The ogres are more gifted in stature, physique, eugenics and general overtures
They always outplay African humans on matters of intelligence, they are shrewder,
Ogres are aggressive and swashbuckling in manners; fear is none of their domain
Craft and slyness is their breakfast, super is the result; success, whether pyrrhic or Byronic,
Is their sweetest dish, they then schemed to get the English girl at whatever cost,
They made a move to name one of their fellow ogres the name of dream man;
Akhatembete khobwibo khakhalikha no bwoya,
Which an English girl wanted,
By viciously naming one of their handsome middle-aged man this name.

Song four

Then they set off 0n foot, from Congo moving to the north towards Europe abode England,
Where the beautiful girl of the times, Victoria Goodhamlet Lovehill hail,
They were three of them, walking funnily in cyclopic steps of African ogres,
Keeping themselves humorously high by feigning how they will dupe the girl,
How they will slyly decoy the English village pumpkin of the girl in to their trap,
And effortlessly make her walk on foot from England to Africa, in pursuit of love
On this muse and sweet wistfulness they broke out into loud gewgaws of laughter,
In such emotional bliss they now jump up wildly forgetting about their tails
Which they initially stuffed inside white long trousers, tails now wag and flag crazily,
Feats of such wild emotions gave the ogres superhuman synergy to walk cyclopically,
A couple of their strides made them to cross Uganda, Kenya, Somali, Ethiopia and Egypt
Just but in few days, as sometimes they ran in violent stampedes
Singing in a cryptic language the funny ogres songs;

Dada wu ndolelee!
Dada wu ndolelee!
Kuyuni kwa mnja
Sa kwingile khundilila !

Ehe kuyuni Mulie!
Ehe kuyuni mulie!
Omukhana oyo
Kaloba khuja lilia !
They then laughed loudly, farted cacophonously and jumped wildly, as if possessed,
They used happiness and raucous joy as a strategy to walk miles and miles
Which you cover when moving on foot from Congo to England,
They finally crossed Morocco and walked into Europe,
They by-passed Italy and Spain walking piecemeal
into England, native land of the beautiful girl.

Song  five

When the three ogres reached England, they were all surprised
Every woman and man was white; people of England walked slowly and gently
They made minimum noise, no shouting publicly on the street,
a stark contrast to human behaviour and ogre culture in Africa, very rambunctious,
Before they acclimatized to disorderly life in England, an over-sighted upset befell them
Piling and piling menace of pressure to ****,
Gripped all the three ogre brothers the same time,
None of them had knowledge of municipal utilities,
They all wanted to micturated openly
Had it not been beautiful English girls
Ceaselessly thronging the streets.



Song six

They persevered and moved on in expectation of coming to the end,
Out-skirt of the strange English town so that they can get a woodlot,
From where they could hide behind to do open defecation
All was in vain; they never came to any end of the English town,
Neither did they come by a tumbled-down house
No cul de sac was in sight, only endless highway,
Sandwiched between tall skyscraping buildings,
One of the ogres came up with an idea, to drip the ****
Drop by drop in their *******, as they walk to their destiny,
They all laughed but not loudly, in controlled giggles
And executed the idea minus haste.

Song seven

They finally came down to the banks of river Thames,
Identified the home of Victoria Goodhamlet Lovehill
The home had neither main gate nor metallic doors,
They entered the home walking in humble majesty,
Typical of racketeering ogre, in a swindling act,
The home was silent, no one in sight to talk to
The ogres nudged one another, repressing the mirth,
Hunchbacked English lass surfaced, suddenly materialized
Looking with a sparkle in the eye, talking pristine English,
Like that one written by Geoffrey Chaucer, her words were as piffling
As speech of a mad woman at the fish market, ogres looked at her in askance.

Song eight

An ogre with name Akhatembete khobwibo khakhalikha nobwoya opened to talk,
Asked the girl where could be the latrine pits, for micturation only,
The hunchbacked lass gave them a direction to the toilets inside the house,
She did it in a full dint of English elegance and gentility,
But all the ogres were discombobulated to their peak
about the English latrine pit inside the house,
they all went into the toilet at the same time,
to the chagrin of the hunchbacked lass
she had never seen such in England
she struggled a lot
to repress her mirth
as the English
never get amused
at folly.




Song nine

It is a tradition among the ogres to ****,
Whenever they are ******* in the African bush,
But now the ogres are in a fix, a beautiful fix of their life
If at all they ****, the flatulent cacophony will be heard outside
By the curious eavesdroppers under the eaves of the house,
They murmured among themselves to tighten their **** muscles
So that they can micturated without usual African accomplice; the tweeee!
All succeeded to manage , other than Akhatembete khobwibo khakhalikha nobwoya,
Who urinated but with a low tziiiiiiii sound from his ***, they didn’t laugh
Ogres walked out of privities relaxed like a catholic faithful swallowing a sacrament,
The hunchback girl ushered them to where they were to sit, in the common room
They all sat with air of calm on their face, Akhatembete Khobwibo khakhalikha nobwoya,
led the conversation, by announcing to the girl that he is Victoria’s visitor from Africa,
To which the girl responded with caution that Victoria is at the barbershop,
Giving hand to her father in shearing the horses, and thus she is busy,
No one is allowed to meet her, at that particular hour of the day
But he pleaded to the hunchback girl only to pass tidings to Victoria,
That Akhatembete Khobwibo khakhalikha nobwoya from Africa
Has arrived and he is yearning to meet her today and now,
The girl went bananas on hearing the name
The hunch on her back visibly shook,
Is like she had heard the name often,
She then became prudent in her senses,
And asked the visitor not to make anything—
Near a cat’s paw out of her person,
She implored the visitor to confirm
if at all he was what he was saying
to which he confirmed in affirmation,
then she went out swiftly
like a tail of the snake,
to pass tidings
to her sister
Victoria.


Song ten
She went out shouting her sister’s name,
A rare case to happen in England,
One to make noise in the broad day light,
With no permission from the local leadership,
She called and ululated Victoria’ name for Victoria to hear
From wherever she was, of which she heard and responded;
What is the matter my dear little sister? What ails you?
Akhatembete Khobwibo khakhalikha nobwoya is around!
She responded back in voice disturbed by emotional uproar,
What! My sister why do you cheat me in such a day time?
Am not cheating you my sister, he is around sited in our father’s house,
Is he? Have you given him a drink, a sweet European brandy?
My sister I have not, I feared that I may mess up your visitors
With my hunched shoulders, I feared sister forbid,
Ok, I am coming, running there, tell him to be patient,
Let me tell him sister just right now,
And make sure you come before his patience is stretched.





Song eleven

Victoria Goodhamlet Lovehill almost went berserk
On getting this good tidings about the watershed presence,
Of the long awaited suitor, her face exploded into vivacity,
Her heart palpitating on imagination of finally getting the husband,
She went out of the barber shop running and ululating,
Leaving her father behind, confounded and agape,
She came running towards her father’s main house
Where the suitor is sited, with the chaperons,
She came kicking her father’s animals to death,
Harvesting each and every fruit, for the suitor,
She did marvel before she reached where the suitor was;
Harvested ten bananas, mangoes and avocadoes,
Plums, pepper, watermelons, lemons and oranges,
She kicked dead five chicken, five goats, rams,
Swine, rabbits, rats, pigeons and hornbills,
When she reached the house, she inquired to know,
Who among them could be the one; Akhatembete Khobwibo
Khakhalikha no bwoya, But her English vocals were not guttural enough,
She instead asked, who among you is a key tempter go weevil car no lawyer?
The decoy ogre promptly responded; here I am the queen of my heart. He stood up,
Victoria took the ogre into her arms, whining; babie! Babie, babie, come!
Victoria carried the ogre swiftly in her arms, to her tidy bed room,
She placed the ogre on her bed, kissed one another at a rate of hundred,
Or more kisses per a minute, the kissing sent both of them crazy, but spiritual craft,
That gave the ogre a boon to maintain some sobriety, but libido of virginity held Victoria
In boonless state of ****** feat, defenseless and impaired in judgment
It extremely beclouded her judgment; she removed and pulled of their clothes,
Libidinous feat blurring her sight from seeing the scarlet tail projecting
From between the buttocks of the ogre, vestige of *******,
She forcefully took the ogre into her arms, putting the ogre between her legs,
The ogre’s uncircumcised ***** effectively penetrated Victoria’s ****** purse,
The ogre broke virginity of Victoria, making her to feel maximum warmth of pleasure
As it released its germinal seed into her body, ecstasy gripped her until she fainted,
The ogre erected more on its first *******; its ***** became more stiff and sharp,
It never pulled out its ***** from the purse of Victoria, instead it introduced further
Deeper and deeper into Victoria’s ******, reaching the ****** depth inside her with gusto,
Victoria screamed, wailed, farted, scratched, threw her neck, kissed crazily and ******,
On the rhythms of the ogre’s waist gyrations, it was maximum pleasure to Victoria,
She reached her second ****** before the ogre; it took further one hour before releasing,
Victoria was beaten; she thought she was not in England in her father’s house
She thought she was in Timbuktu riding on a mosquito to Eldorado,
Where she could not be found by her father whatsoever,
The ogre pulled Victoria up, helped her to dress up,
She begged that they go back to the common room,
Lest her father finds them here, he would quarrel,
They went back to the common room,
Found her father talking to other two ogres,
She shouted to her father before anyone else,
That ‘father I have been showing him around our house,’
‘He has fallen in love with our house; he is passionate about it,’
Akhatembete khobwibo khakhalikha nobwoya was shy,
He greeted the father and resumed his chair, with wryly dignity.


Song twelve
An impromptu festival took place,
Fully funded by the father of Victoria,
There was meat of all type from pork to chicken,
Greens were also there in plenty, pepper and watermelons,
Victoria’s mother remembered to prepare tripe of a goat
For the key visitant who was the suitor; Akhatembete,
Food was laid before the ogres to enjoy themselves,
As all others went to the other house for a brainstorming session,
But the hunched backed girl hid herself behind the door,
To admire the food which visitors were devouring,
As she also spied on the table manners of the visitors, for stories to be shared,
Perhaps between herself and her mother, when visitors are gone,
Some sub-human manners unfolded to her as she spied,
One of the ogres swallowed a spoon and a table fork,
And Akhatembete khobwibo khakhalikha nobwoya,
Uncontrollably unstuffed his scarlet tail from the trouser,
The chill crawled up the spine of hunchbacked girl,
She almost shouted from her hideout, but she restrained herself,
She swore to herself to tell her father that the visitors are not humans
They are superhuman, Tarzans or mermaids or the werewolves,
The ogre who swallowed the spoon remorsefully tried to puke it back,
Lest the hosts discover the missing spoon and cause brouhaha,
It was difficult to puke out the spoon; it had already flowed into the stomach,
Victoria, her father, her mother and her friend Anastasia,
Anastasia; another English girl from the neighborhood,
Whom Victoria had fished, to work for her as a best maid, as a chaperon,
Went back to the house where the ogres had already finished eating,
They found ogres sitting idle squirming and flitting in their chairs
As if no food had ever been presented to them in a short while ago,
One ogre even shamelessly yawned, blinking his eyes like a snake,
They all forgot to say thanks for the food, no thanks for lunch,
But instead Akhatembete announced on behalf of other ogres,
That they should be allowed to go as they are late for something,
A behaviour so sub-human, given they were suitors to an English family,
Victoria’s father was uneasy, was irritated but he had no otherwise,
For he was desperate to have her daughter Victoria get married,
He had nothing to say but only to ask his daughter, Victoria,
If she was going right-away with her suitor or not,
To which she violently answered yes I am going with him,
Victoria’s mother kept mum, she only shot miserable glances
From one corner of the house to another, to the ogres also,
She totally said nothing, as Victoria was predictably violent
To any gainsayer in relation to her occasion of the moment,
Victoria’s father wished them all well in their life,
And permitted Victoria to go and have good life,
With Akhatembete, her suitor she had yearned for with equanimity,
Victoria was so confused with joy; her day of marriage is beholden,
She hurriedly packed up as if being chased by a monster,
Joshua Haines Apr 2015
It was four o'clock in the morning. Robert wondered why his name was Robert. He decided to get rid of the "Bert" because it was the name of a Sesame Street character or the name of a ******* in Tempe, Arizona. Then again, he thought, "Hey, just Rob makes me sound like I change tires for a living or that I work out at a gym that discriminates fat people and blacks." Rob or Robert took a second to evaluate his last thought and if thinking "and blacks" made him a racist person.

Robert sat on a bench and wondered if the woman beside him was expecting Forest Gump-esque wisdom.

Robert thought of a friend he had in grade eight, named Alexander. He thought of how Alexander had a glass eye. Robert wondered how Alexander had a glass eye but could not remember or did not know why Alexander had a glass eye. Robert, then, concluded that sometimes he will not know something and how that is okay because most people don't know anything--it's a collection of approximates that stay in our heads, he thought. Robert asked himself if his last thought made him intelligent or dumb and pretentious. Robert decided that he did not know. How meta, he thought. Robert, then, decided to stop using the word "meta" so much, because it made him feel like a professor with bitterness and something to prove.

Robert watched his sister struggle with an eating disorder. She was in a hospital bed, with an IV in her arm. Robert did not know if he would struggle with anything as hard as his sister struggled with anorexia. Robert, then, had intense but fleeting anger at every person that bragged about being anorexic or made it seem cool.

Robert sat on his toilet and wondered what his true identity was and what his true nature was. He wondered what was inherent and what was synthetic. Robert, then, wondered if a synthetic personality was inherent. Robert asked himself if he was a good person. He wasn't sure if sitting on the toilet, in his grandmother's house, and ******* to interracial ebony teen ****, on his iPhone, made him a good person or not. His concerns soon past, though, as soon as Lauren started to **** the pizza guy's white ****.

Robert walked down the street and was contemplating some of the issues that plagued his ****-infested mind, while he was on the toilet. Robert saw a girl running from a guy. Robert asked himself if he was a hero or inherently good. Robert, then, concluded that he was inherently a coward, since he did nothing and hoped that somebody else would save her.

Robert didn't meet a girl and knew that no one would write prose about his meeting a girl and their mutual love for one another. Robert was eating a steak sub, while thinking this.

Robert returned to the hospital, to pick up his sister. On the way home, his sister talked about how attractive her nurse was. Robert asked, "What did he look like?" His sister, then, said, "It wasn't a he. My nurse was a girl." Robert was okay with his sister being attracted to girls, but hoped that she didn't get more than him or more attractive girls than him, because, for some reason, that would make him feel insecure. Robert decided to stop eating so many steak subs and to work out. Robert asked his sister if she wanted to get steak subs. She said, "sure".

Robert was working out in his basement. He heard the sound of retching, upstairs. Robert followed the sound of the vomiting and opened a bathroom door. He saw his sister stick her finger down her throat. He said to his sister, "That isn't anorexia." His sister said, "I know. There's a lot you don't know about me." Robert said, "I'm sorry."
Hal Loyd Denton Sep 2012
He called his older and baby sister home

Leukemia fought back and forth now it came to claim the soul those I cherish most on this earth were to
Be consumed at the deepest depths of the caldron but friend you see I know someone he faced death
Most cruelest blows and was victories so being human and facing pain and sorrow at such heights I ran
To the only place I knew back to the motel in California where he flooded our room with such peace we
Only stopped for the night to break up the drive from LA back to San Francisco the bay area it was
Christmas but we never made it home who can leave when the very air you breathe is saturated with
Love and a peace you have never known before at the time I didn’t know my only sister had died but He
Knew so I prayed that for this situation but they always say God is not limited so he did move in their
Pain my wife the older sister with his next to older sister and her daughter were in the bedroom by his
Side when he peacefully passed the doctor warned that in some cases this disease at death will cause
The person to bleed out every ounce of blood God spared us from that horror he only dropped his
Shoulder and with a couple of puffs of air he was gone and God helped my wife in this way one of the
Books I read to her to get her to sleep is Oma she is a united Pentecostal preacher her story is one of
Terrible hardship after being filled with the Holy Ghost speaking in tongues that is biblical way of
Salvation her husband an unbeliever tried to **** her three times and seemingly even more cruel he and
His mother conspired together and took her five children and one was a nursing baby but she stayed
True to God and her ministry grew and flourished the bible says God is a ever present help in the time of
Trouble and her prayer and mine was help us Lord for we are troubled he sustained Oma and new babies
Born into God’s kingdom through her ministry became her children so God dropped this thought in my
Wife’s heart she said she felt like Oma when her brother died it was right it was strong it held while the
Storm of death was trying to flatten her the next to the oldest sister the one with her daughters and
Husband bore the brunt of this two year battle pressed crushed grinded by what was happening to her
Brother my heart bled most for her God poured in the love from the unseen and laughter is like a
Medicine he supplied that in quaintest portions God uses clowns to bring relief to pain first you have to
Go down in that valley be torn apart then you are given still that which you lack to enter such sacred
Ground and add the antidote that will guard and protect those that God cares to comfort it was great to
Learn although Joe wasn’t a priest in the spiritual sense he was an uncommon one in the human sense
The words of his friends that streamed in told that story and his best friend the next to the oldest
Daughter’s husband capped it when he spoke for the family someone special lived among us and now
Was gone but he will live in each new day bring those same gifts he shared he didn’t have a lot but it
Was All yours if you needed it thats quiet a life in any body’s book I said it before and I will say it again
Farewell Prince a kingdom you now have found
howard brace Sep 2012
He'd been conceived in Flamborough, so his little sister assured him some eleven summers ago, which was a tad hard for Rocky to swallow, she was a whole eighteen months his junior and then some... and at that age, well... what did she know, she was only a kid, "on this very rock" River insisted, kicking her heels in delight, "next to this very rock pool" they were both sitting beside, "one sunny afternoon eleven years ago..." and that was how he came by the name of Rocky... she taunted as the rest of the colourful story unfolded... and that she had it all on the best possible authority... although the more she thought about it, had she meant concealed... she wasn't quite sure now, it was all so very confusing at her tender age but thought it sounded close enough not to matter too much and that she would just wait and see which way the wind blew.
        
     It was conceivably an ill wind that blew no one any good that day, especially if you were a boy and just happened to be sat by a rock pool next to your little sister...  Having just taken a well earned drink from a neighbouring rock pool, Sockeye the floppiest Springer Spaniel this side of the Pecos decided that he was going to dig a hole and that he would be digging it deep, then changed his mind mid-dig and decided to have a more down to earth back scratching wriggle instead... then promptly flopped over and slid into the hole... life was sweet.  Now covered from nose to tail with every species of deceased shore life usually found frequenting the high water mark Sockeye, in a blinding flash of canine inspiration judged it would be in everyone's best interest were he to have a really good shakedown which always appeared to go down well on these occasions... and give everyone a good peppering, just so they could see exactly what they'd been missing all their lives.  

     "A rock of all places, for goodness sakes..." and what's more, it was this rock, "Yuk..." he jumped up and wiped his palms on the back of his jeans in disgust, then onto his tee-shirt, then sat back down again and began exploring his left nostril in quiet contemplation before finally jambing his hands back into his pockets... what in Heaven's name had his parents been thinking of..? what on earth was his little sister talking about..? and more to the point, what in fact did conceived mean..?  these were the questions that were uppermost in Rocky's mind as he poked an exploratory stick into the rock pool...  a baby crab marooned by the tide scampered sideways beneath a large pebble and stuck one beady eye out at him... Rocky's sister, seemingly in a world of her own, much like the baby crab sat on the edge of the noteworthy rock kicking her heels, an innocent smile curled the corners of her mouth as she quietly hummed a little song of tuneful bliss to herself and considered what further mischief she could possibly pass her brother's way.

     Rocky tossed a piece of driftwood over his sisters shoulder at a nearby flock of seagulls, squabbling over what appeared to be a discarded bag of fish and chips... Sockeye, simply knowing that his little master wanted to play a game of fetch gambolled after the stick, his ears flying courageously in the still Summer air and burst, amid a melee of feathers into their midst, only to romp back moments later, the stick all but forgotten in the excitement but now proudly sporting the derelict bag of leftovers and the odd splash of guano, his tail lolloping magnificently from side to side... and for the moment at least, leaving the fratching seagulls wheeling noisily overhead and to go about their daily business without further interruption... as for Sockeye, it had been a no contest situation.

     After fourteen years of valiant endeavour his father... Red, so named for his vivid shock of wiry hair, was still engaged in man's eternal struggle to win his significant other half's approbation with the manful art of deck-chair assembly, beach barbeque and other significant gentlemanly pursuits, all while strutting his manly stuff, sporting top of the range beach wear in accordance with the social etiquette of the previous decade... his masculine paunch slumping gallantly atop his waistband...  

     After the same fourteen terms of domestic servitude and the same thirteen identically overlooked anniversary cards a certain someone had no intention of allowing another certain someone to forget so much as one of them... his better half, so she insisted would ride rough shod, administering her own brand of justice at every given opportunity, in much the same way you'd brandish a royal-flush on poker night... or better still, a loaded revolver... and that she personally carried the burden of every ill-fated card that Lady Luck had dealt strung about her neck like Adam's original sin on Judgement Day.  

     Red much preferred the shorter, more condensed name of Rock for his son, rather than the longer more protracted Rocky, as he struggled with the wood and canvas lounger badly trapping the mound of his thumb in the process, "Aaargh...!!!" plunging his throbbing hand deep into the cold, soothing rock-pool "aaah...!!!"   Still marooned by the tide, the baby crab stood poised and ready for action as it considered giving this latest intrusion a good offensive nip, then hang on spitefully as it gave Red the final withering once over with the same baleful eye it had successfully used earlier.

     Acknowledging her husbands misfortune with a perfunctory grunt as she rummaged in her beach-bag for the thermos, she refused to be drawn in where thumbs were concerned right now, after all with his DNA sequencing she was convinced he could probably grow a new one within the month... whilst Tina, well... she was just plain worn-out... but still rejoiced in telling anyone who cared to lend a sympathetic ear in her direction... and who in turn was more than happy to listen to the woes of others and went somewhere along the lines of... 'and had she heard any more of poor Mrs Dorey's lingering martyrdom recently..? you know, the downtrodden lady who lives in the next street but one... and how they would all miss her when she was gone... and how she couldn't wait...' and as rumour had it, neither could her husband...

      Feigning to be otherwise engaged, Tina... as her husband, now blowing frantically on his mangled thumb, stumbled backwards over the half erected lounger and with a spine jarring "Ooomph...!!!" landed squarely in Sockeye's subsiding earthworks... professed total disassociation with the entire fiasco as she plunged her nose even deeper into the overdue library book she'd purposely brought on holiday for just such an occasion, making it perfectly clear that she was a tourist and furthermore, planned to stick with the same itinerary once they returned home... and that while she was here, she did not under any circumstances wish to be disturbed, the notice was clearly displayed hanging from the door handle... but if anyone should, then whoever it was did so at their own peril... and she was keeping score... although a mangled thumb she luxuriated, with the same roguish smile curling the corners of her mouth as the one normally found playing around her daughter's... was equally as heart warming.

      All Tina wanted was one week of uninterrupted peace and quiet in Flamborough, preferably with a certain someone out from under her feet then spend what might pass for several undisturbed hours sitting quietly by the rock pool comparing notes on eye makeup and the feminine merits of pedicure with the little crab who, still marooned by the tide was now sat busily knitting four pairs of matching leg warmers in the cool, still water but that was only if that certain someone... a shrill  "AAaargh...!!!" somewhat more desperate than the first, ****** itself upon the as yet unaggressive afternoon as it gyrated across the warm Jurrasic rock and recoiled out to sea... "now where was I", twisting her book uppermost "oh yes..! someone was going to pay..." only now it was going to be sooner rather than later, but only if that certain someone didn't finish the seating arrangements before the Sun disappeared and drift into some backstreet tea-room before all the lemon cheesecake sold out, or was that she reflected, simply too much to ask.

     It was his Surname that Rock found so objectionable, or it had been right up until his little sister's enlightening disclosure, now it was both names Rocky disliked, it would have been far kinder had Rock Salmon been sandwiched between sliced bread and given to Sockeye... who's solemn duty, from the first mouthful to the very last, was to gaze up beseechingly from beneath the kitchen table  and devour anything that passed his way, even the postman had to be quick about his business or have his arm follow the mail through the letter box... then Sockeye would just smack his lips and help himself to seconds.  

     All Rocky's mum had thought about for the last fourteen years was seconds... every last solitary one of them since she'd suffered with an infection of matrimonial neurosis which had deprived her of common sense and her maiden name, from Chovey to that of Salmon and how with hindsight she should have taken an Aspirin instead, wedlock she asserted was everything the name claimed to be and was without doubt the worst move she'd ever made... and what's more was seen as a bad move in whoever's wedding album you just happened to be paying your condolences to.

     Rocky would never be so fortunate on that score, unlike his sister he was stuck with Salmon for good, his grandma-Ann by all accounts had been dead set against the union from word Go and saw his father as someone who would always be out of his depth in whatever rock pool he found himself in, swimming against the tide as it were, rather than going with the flow... and it appeared that Rocky, almost eleven years into a life sentence, was about to flounder in the same murky undertow as the rest of the Salmon family... only he couldn't swim.

     "There"! her husband exclaimed "all finished... better late than never eh', who fancies trying it"? his wife luxuriated over the words 'better late' and wondered whether her new earrings, her latest acquisition would complement formal mourning attire.  Red dusted off the palms of his hands with the certain knowledge of a job well done and cautiously took one step back, looking with justifiable pride at the outcome of his manly exertions of the last two hours, this was what holidays were all about he declared, one man pitted against insurmountable odds...  His wife meanwhile was getting to grips with more odds of her own than you could safely expect to shake a stick at... her husband being one of them.  

     Having gathered her offspring with the promise of verbal earache if they didn't... and finished packing the beach-bag, Tina finally located Sockeye peering out from the shade of an adjacent rock, wisps of feathers poked tellingly from the corners of his mouth, his tail beating mischievously on the shingle decided in one further blaze of canine brainstorming, as Tina attempted to slip his collar on that a game of tag would just about round the day off nicely... Tina then devoted the next ten minutes chasing him amid unrestrained salvo's of cheering from the rest of the family... then bid goodbye to the little crab who, still marooned by the tide waved a friendly pincer in return... and trusted that she wouldn't have too long to wait for the next rising tide back home, then she slid off the rock with a corrosive... "the deck-chair attendant would have shown you" she snapped "and don't forget the deposit when you take them back" then double checking that she landed squarely on his foot she marched past, her floral sun hat jammed resolutely on her head at what she considered a jaunty angle with her equally jaunty, angular children scrambling in hot pursuit, back in the direction of their lodgings.  

     "Woof "..? said a bewildered Sockeye, bringing everyone to an abrupt halt... and with paws the size of place-mats, he wasn't going anywhere he didn't want to... he hunkered down with a look of hurtful accusation on his face, "oh yes you are my lad"! said his mistress "I've met your sort before" and knew exactly where to place the toe of her dainty size-5 as Sockeye, digging his heals in even further created swathes of canine furrows up the beach, leaving her husband the unwitting holder and in sole possession of the overlooked guest-house keys... and somewhat resigned to clean up his own masculinity and dismantle the recently assembled, now redundant deck-chairs by himself... as for Tina, well... she'd had quite enough excitement for one day thank you very much.

     Morning register was always the worst he thought, as they trooped back along the shingle beach, Rocky making surprisingly good furrows of his own... but the rest of the class loved it and saw it as the highlight of each day... Rocky's form teacher, despite showing a brave face was always hard pressed to avoid bursting into hysterics every time she worked her way down the register to the letter 'S' and would attempt to bypass it altogether, jumping from 'R' to 'T' and just prayed that no one else had noticed, but it hadn't taken the class very long to point out her oversight and... "please Miss" they'd all chant "we haven't had Salmon all week" and while the rest of the class were having convulsive fits, Rocky would elbow the lad sat at the next desk in the ribs... and promptly get one hundred lines for his trouble... thank goodness it was school holidays.  Why couldn't they have been given respectable names like Seymour Legge, Rock wondered, who sat over by the window or perhaps the teachers pet, Anna Prentice or even, Robyn Banks at a pinch, but definitely not what they'd been given and certainly not Salmon, they were the most hilarious names he could imagine and if someone was looking down on them right now he thought... then they had a very unique sense of humour indeed and Rock said so... "why" his little sister asked sweetly, "what's wrong with River Salmon".

                                                      ­                         ...   ...   ...*

a work in progress*                                                        ­                                                              240­6
Dorothy A Oct 2013
Everything faded to black. He had a hard time remembering just what the hell happened. He wasn't sure of downing some random pills from of the medicine cabinet-- his first attempt to end it all. Making sure he would not recover-- if the pills didn't do the job-- he had already devised the set up of the noose in his bedroom. Definitely, he didn't recall anyone cutting the rope, forcing him down to the floor.

Lacie joked with him. "Dude, you've got nine lives! You must really be a ****, fricking cat in disguise! That's why you'll eat those nasty tuna fish sandwiches they serve in the nuthouse! "

Chris grinned at her.  He had to agree. To refer to it as the psych ward at the hospital made it seem like more of a jail term, but calling it "the nuthouse" lightened up the severity of the situation. As grave and nearly tragic as everything  had become, it was kind of laughable to him.  He supposed he had more chances than a cat's fabled life. It all seemed so crazy that it must be funny.

Well, what could he say? He had flirted with death, but unwillingly managed to escape its grip. "Pathetic..."--he commented. "I don't not even know how to die well..."

Chris  eventually realized that he had been rushed to the hospital, but wished it wasn't true. Since then, everything was either a total blur or a bizarre state of mind . Even waking up in his room was like a remotely vague memory, almost like a long ago dream that might not really have happened.

Maybe, he was somewhat aware that his sister was screaming in shock and horror at the sight of him, shouting out downstairs to her boyfriend to help her. But the walls were turning red, a glowing scarlet- red, with an added fiery orange and yellowish-gold-- all joined together in pulsating embers. He was quickly losing consciousness. It was like some, bad acid trip. Not that Chris knew this firsthand, but it sure was like something he saw on TV or at the movies.

And now he was the star of the horror show.

Did he die?  Death was what he planned on, so waking up was not a relief, or a reality back into motion--just the opposite. It was as if being awake was the real nightmare, a delusional time when everything was not true, and was only an scary, offbeat version of the life of Chris Cartier.

The bad acid trip continued. He recalled hospital staff rushing about him, seeming like real people-- sort of. Then they morphed into fish in scrubs. From overhead, an IV was dripping into his arm. Tubes were shoved down his throat. His vital signs were displayed on a screen that made beeps and sounds, increasing the chaos and adding to the mayhem to his mind. Soon, the vital signs machine started talking to him that he was a "very bad boy" and other such scoldings.

He was thoroughly freaked out. If he was still alive, he'd rather be dead.

He wanted to run. One of the fish pushed him back down and muttered out undecipherable utterances-- like underwater gibberish . Then that fish used its slimy fins to inject him with a needle in his arm. The other fish circled around him like fish out of water--with opening and closing mouths-- as if gasping for air.

As they surrounded him as rubber monkeys shot out from the walls and bounced all over the room. On top of all this madness, the florescent lights above were flickering on and off, in sync to the wild music, like the drum beats of a distant jungle. It was one bizarre tangle of events, a freaky, crazy, out-of-control ride in which reality could not be distinguished from the animation and mass confusion. It was one overpowering ride that he would much rather forget.

When Chris got out of critical condition, he found out that he could still not go home. That would take a few weeks more. Dr. What-The-Hell's-His-Name assured him that he needed to start on the path to his psychological healing--just as grave as the physical--right here in a safe place.

It didn't seem so safe to him.

The enemy wasn't what was out there in the world, but the big, bad wolf was actually him. He had to be protected from the true culprit--himself-- and that was a mind-blowing concept. Just what did he get himself into?   

He never had been a patient in a hospital before. In all his twenty-six years, he didn't so much as even have his tonsils out. Feeling now like a prisoner,, he was still scared out of his mind-- as if it was day one all over again. When was he going to get out of here? Chris began to fear that they would never let him out. No professional had a definitive answer, as only time would tell of his improvement.

Man, why couldn't he just be dead?

His parents visited almost everyday, but it was of no reassurance to him. His mother always left in tears, and his father was lost for words. This was nothing new. When it concerned their troubled son, they felt inadequate to help him. The best his dad could say was, "Hey, Chris, we're pullin' for ya". That was of no comfort, whatsoever, like he was some fighter in a boxing ring that his old man had a bet placed on . His mom always clung to him as she said goodbye, like she needed the hug more than he did, saying to Chris through her sobs , "Miss you....love you". Her emotional state just unsettled him to the core, and he was worried for her more than for himself.    

At best, his outlook was grim. But then he met Lacie Weiss, and things started looking up.

Lacie was one of the quietest psych patients in the ward, always sticking to herself. But then he found himself sitting right next to her in group therapy, and they hit it off. He had no idea that she had a fun side. She usually looked apathetic and quietly defiant to society, a nonconformist in the form of a Goth, with edgy, dyed black hair, dark eye make-up and some ****** piercings of the eyebrow, tongue and nose. Her look was quite in contrast to his light blue eyes and sandy-brown hair. Chris never was into Gothic, viewing those who were as spooky creeps.  

It was obvious that Chris was scared and confused. Now although trying to seem tough and stoic, Lacie seemed so little, almost fragile, yet obviously trying to hide her broken self together. Petite and somewhat girlish in appearance, she was barely 5 feet tall. Chris was 5 feet 11 and a half inches, close enough to the six foot stature that he wanted to be. Only a half inch less really didn't cut it for him, though, even though his slim build gave the impression of a lankier guy. He would have loved to be as tall as the basketball players he so emulated. But such was life. He was never used to having the advantages.  

At first, Lacie never opened up, not to a single soul. Like Chris, she certainly acted like she didn't need this place, and nobody was going to help her--or be allowed to help her. As stony and impenetrable as she tried to be, group therapy it was hard to disappear in. Everyone was held accountable for opening up, and the leader was going to see to it.  No way, though, did Lacie want to crack or look weak in her turtle shell composure, in her self-preservation mode. So it was agony for her.

She first spoke to him, whispering loudly to him, onc,e in the group circle "This is all *******!"

Hanging with Chris was the one salvation that she had in this miserable experience. They both could relate more than he ever realized. They both really liked motorcycles and basketball. He had his own Harley, and it was something he loved to work on and go on long rides with it, his own brand of therapy.  In spite of how she looked, Lacie was also actually close to his age. He was twenty-six. and she was twenty-two.

They first broke the ice with casual introductions. "No, the name is not pronounced like Carter", he corrected her about his last name. "It is like Cart-EE-AY...... It's French".

"Yep", she replied. "Like mine is the same way, but as German as brats and sauerkraut,  Ja dummkopf?"

Chris gave her a weird look. She continued, "My mom's dad was from Germany, and I got my mom's name. Ya don't say it how it looks. You would say Weiss like Vice, but I couldn't give a **** how anybody says it. Nobody gets it right and original, anyhow." Her dark brown eyes flashed at him as she said, " But I think I like Chris Cutie, myself, better than Cartier.....cutie it is for me. Huh, cutie pie? "

Chris laughed hard. She was pretty coy for a die-hard Goth. She batted her eyes playfully at him and winked."You're worth being in here for, ya know", he told her, blushing, still laughing at her silly remarks.

She studied his face in response, all laughing aside. Suddenly, her mood turned solemn.  "I'll bet".

They began hanging out in the commons, walking down the halls for exercise, and swapping stories of their plights. Chris quickly found that she Lacie wasn't so steely and unapproachable as the day he first saw her.  And she discovered that he was more than a pretty boy.

"My parents weren't home when I tried", he told her one time after lunch was done. They were sitting in a corner, trying to be as private as possible. "Twenty-six years old...and I still live with them. Yeah, that's my life. I got a twin brother, and he's moved out and doing alright for himself. My sister's younger, is going to college. Wants to be a doctor".

Lacy didn't have any siblings to compare herself to. "Must be cool to have a twin", Lacie said. "I always wondered how that would be to have two of me running around! Scary, huh, dude?"

Chris shook his head. "No, it's nothing like that. Jake and I aren't identical. We are just a two-for-one deal...I mean  is that my parents got two babies in one, huge-*** pregnancy. Jake and me don't even act like twins. Half the time, I don't want to be around him."

No, it wasn't like his cousins, Adam and Alan, who were identical friends, mirror images, and best of friends. Chris never identified with that kind of brotherly relationship. He and Jake never dressed alike, or knew what the other one was thinking. And Chris felt that his brother always felt superior to him. He was the popular one. He was the ambitious one who landed a great job in computers, as a system analyst.  To add to Chris's feelings of inferiority, his little sister, Kate, had surpassed him, too. She was acing most of her classes, and boarding away at college. She was well on her way to becoming a doctor.    

"So if your mom and dad weren't around...who saved you?" Lacie asked. She stared into his eyes with such a probing stare that Chris almost clammed up. Just thinking about that day was overpowering.

"Uh...my sister and her boyfriend were hanging out in the basement. She was home from college, and I didn't know it. My parents were out-of-town. Our dog, Buster, was acting funny. He knew something was up..."

Chris stopped abruptly, but went on. "Kate, my sister, explained to me that she saw me in my room, getting up on a step ladder. She says she yelled at me to stop. I don't remember...but I guess..I guess I was going to do it anyway, and she wouldn't be able to stop me....stop me from...so I hurried up and jumped off before she could stop me."  

Lacie could almost picture it, as if she was there with him. She said, "But she did stop it. She saved you."

"Yeah", he agreed. "Buster started it all...barking, alerting my sister to come upstairs from the basement, and upstairs by my room...." All of a sudden, he felt so weird, like he was having an out-of-body experience.

"Hey, it's OK", Lacie reassured him. "It's over now. You aren't there anymore".

Chris started to cry, but tried not to. "If it weren't for Brian, Kate's boyfriend....she would not of had the strength to hold me up by herself, and cut the rope, too. I must have been like dead weight, and Brian grabbed a kitchen knife and told her to stay cool about it. Yeah, sure, like that could have been possible ! She was trying to keep the rope slack, while trying to save my sorry ****...and she was scared, shitless! "

Lacie opened up, too, relating her tragic past. She had an unbelievable tale, one hell of a ride herself.  It was amazing how detached she was when relating it, though. "Well" actually I got to fess up" "I'm not really an only child....I mean I am...but not really. I know that sounds weird---hey--but I am weird. Oddly unusual is the story of my life-- even before day one. "

Chris had no idea what she was talking about. "What are ya' trying to say?"

She added another surprising bombshell. "Also,  I have a two-year-old boy. His name is Danny. He don't see his dad--ever. The guy's a waste of space. Anyway, my mom has him. She can afford him more, and can do a better job raising him than me. Well, she does OK money-wise. Anyhow, my mom deserves him because she lost everything. And I mean EVERYTHING! Her whole fricking family practically wiped out!"

The shock that Chris had on his face-- his widened, blue eyes and open mouth were expected.   Most people had a hard time believing her.

She explained, calmly, "I mean she nearly died--way before I was born--in a car accident. And her two, little boys were with her in the backseat...and they died that day. "

Chris looked pale. "That is so awful!" he said, hoarsely, barely able to say it.

"Yeah", she continued. "Not a **** thing she could do about it, too. She was like in a million pieces. I know a part of her died right there and then, too. I just know it.  You know, dude, my mom was once really, really coasting along, just doing fine. A typical wife and mother-- a bit older than me now-- life was good. Her little boys were just cute, little toddlers--like Danny. I found out from my grandma that she was  pregnant, too, just a month or two. Nobody could have imagined it coming. She was just driving--doing nothing wrong-- when some idiot broadsided her.  I don't know if it was a guy or a lady, if they were jacked up on ***** or drugs, but they were speeding like a demon out of Hell. Her husband was at work and wasn't around."  

The boys were Benjamin and Gerard, but Lacie couldn't remember their names, for her mom could barely mention them without breaking down. It was an unbearable loss.

Chris was so horrified, amazed that Lacie related this like it was someone else's story. She was almost too cavalier about it.

"And they died ?!" he asked.

"Yeah....*****, don't it? Pure, pure agony. Downright Hell on earth. My mom had to learn to walk again. It took about year, I think."

"Oh, no! What about the baby she was supposed to have?"

"Miscarriage. Worse yet, the **** doctor told her she'd never be able to have kids again. She lost everything, man! Her husband couldn't handle it and left her. **** on top of ****, on top of more ****, on top of more. If it wasn't for her parents, and her sister's help, she would never have made it.

"But she had given birth to you, right? Or were you adopted?"

"Yeah, she gave birth to me. I was her miracle baby, and she didn't give a rat's rear end if my dad wanted me or not. He'd send her money, once in a while, but he wasn't really into either of us. Who cares though? She didn't give a **** what he thought. I was her baby. Truth is, before I came, she ended up slitting her wrists--just like me. What was the use? At first, there was nothing to live for. But now she has Danny.

"And you!" Chris quickly pointed out.

"Dude, are you kidding me? I have been NOTHING but grief for her, a real pain in her ***!"

Unlike her deceased, half-brothers, Lacie grew up before her mother's eyes, from a shy girl to a ******* rebel. Since the age of twelve, she would sneak drinks from her mom's liqueur cabinet. Eventually, she smoked *** and tried ******* and ******. Dropping out of the eleventh grade, she soon away from home, living with friends or boyfriends ever since.  Thankfully, she wasn't doing drugs when she conceived Danny. And her drinking wasn't as prevalent as it was in her teen years of partying and binge drinking. That didn't mean that her drinking problems magically disappeared, or that she was cured. Immediately, though, when she knew she was pregnant, she refused to touch a bottle, but it was just a white knuckle process that was effective momentarily--a band aid on a more serious wound. And going months without a drop of alcohol didn't deaden her urges--quite the opposite--as it only made her crave what she could not have. Often, her fears caught up with her--of especially becoming
Terry Collett Apr 2015
Here Kid take this what is it? whats it look like? its a prayer book thing yes so take it and hide it under your jumper why? just hide the **** thing so Benedict hides the  black book with red ends under his jumper and follows Anne into the grounds out of the French windows Anne crutches herself across the grass and makes towards the round white table and chairs and plonks herself down in a chair tossing her crutches aside Benedict sits down in the next chair looking back towards the nursing home do you think we were seen? seen doing what Kid? walking across the grass no doubt liberating Sister Dumb-arses prayer book no Anne says Benedict turns around and stares at her dont keep looking around Kid or the penguins will guess youve been up to no good me been up to no good it was your idea to take the prayer book but youve got it Kid not me but you said take it and you did well done Kid Anne says smiling she rubs her leg stump and pulls the blue skirt down further what do we do now? Benedict asks looking at Anne tempted to turn around and look behind him sit tight Kid sit tight but I cant hide the book under my jumper all day he says pass it under the table to me so he passes the prayerbook to Anne under the white table and she opens it in her lap he looks at her his stomach tightening guess whose it is? Anne asks he shrugs dont know its only Sister Bridgets how do you know? has it got her name in it? no they dont own personal property its just that it has this prayer card in it with an image of St Bridget on one side and a prayer on the other and on the top shes scrawled Sr Bridget in her bird-**** hand writing God shell go ape he says looking round at the nursing home what do we do? shush Kid what do want them to know weve got it? he stares at the building imagines the nun galloping across the lawn towards them her black robes billowing behind her like Batman turn round Kid youll look suspicious he looks round and stares at her sitting in the chair as if butter wouldnt melt in her mouth on a hot day where are you going to put it? he asks out of the sight of their eyes she says where though? she pulls up her blue skirt and tucks the black prayer book in her navy blue underwear and pulls down the skirt and brushes out the any signs you cant keep it there he says why not my knickers she says are they going to search me there? she says now just go get my wheelchair and  we can go visit the sea out the back gate he sighs and wanders back towards the home trudging across the lawn leaving Anne sitting in the chair like some royal queen on her throne she lifts up her skirt and adjusts the book more securely just as well I wore the passion killers Mum bought me she says to herself and lets down the skirt again and sits staring towards the home as she sits a few of the kids come out and make their way to the swings and slide they know her and avoid her like a plague a nun comes out too Anne stares at her its Sister Lucy a young one green as grass more ****** that the Blessed ****** herself Anne says under breath the nun walks towards Anne her hands inside her black habit how are we today Anne? the nun asks smiling my ****** leg aches Anne says o dear the nun says looking at Annes leg visible under the table have you seen Sister Paul about some pain killers? no not yet Anne says anyway its not this leg its the one not there my stump leg o I see Sister Luke says staring at the unseen stump beneath the blue skirt I could pray for your leg if you would like me to the nun says might help Anne says putting on her pious pose its hurts so much I feel like crying she allows tears to dribble out of her eyes(shes an expert of conjuring tears out of her eyes) o my dear child the nun says coming around the table and placing a hand around Annes shoulders Ill ask Sister Paul about some tablets the nun says thank you Anne whimpers feeling the prayer book move slightly as she moves in the chair she tries to adjust it with her hand to a more secure position Benedict comes across the lawn pushing the wheelchair he sees the nun and his eyes enlarge and he senses danger have they suspected Anne already about the missing prayer book? he wheels the chair behind Anne the nun looks at him arent you a good boy she says yes hes my best friend Anne says smiling through the glassy eyes the nun smiles well I best get back Ill see Sister Paul about those pills the nun says and walks off towards the home that was close Benedict say she didnt mention the prayer book Anne says she just came about me and the ****** leg and offering prayers o I see he says gazing at the stump area thinking about the stump of her leg hes seen many times are you going gawk at my stump all day or are you going to help get in the ****** wheelchair? o right yes he says and helps her get from the chair and into the wheelchair holding it steady at the back make sure the prayer book doesnt slip out of my knickers Kid she says as she rises from the chair and plonks into the wheelchair she moves the book to a more comfortable position and pulls her skirt down pass her knee just as they were about to move away Sister Bridget comes across the lawn towards them like a rhino on heat hang on Kid here comes the penguin wait wait the nun says raising a hand Benedict pauses pushing the wheelchair and stares at the approaching nun keep cool Kid Anne says under her breath act innocent as the Pope at a nudist colony Benedict feels himself perspire the nun stands in front of Anne in the wheelchair a prayer book has gone missing the nun says gazing at Anne has it? Anne says in an innocent tone yes it was taken from the Common Room shall we help look for it? Anne asks have you seen it? the nun asks no not that I know of whats it look like? Anne asks as if butter wouldnt melt a prayer book is what it looks like the nun says eyeing Anne with her suspicious eyes black cover with red ends no cant say I have Anne says Benedict looks away at the trees behind of them at the avenue between them and you Benedict have you seen it? the nun asks staring at him her eyes over him like maggots he shudders no sister not seen it at all he hates lying to  a nun he feels as if she looks into his soul and at the minor sins lurking there like naughty children then the nun looks down in Annes lap gazes at the outline of the leg stump not hiding it are we? the nun says hiding what? Anne says my stump? no I tried hiding it but its always there each morning I wake up the nun screws up her eyes and peers at them both no I mean the book where is it? no idea Anne says Benedict looks down at Annes lap where have you hidden it? the nun says havent seen it Anne says one of the children says she saw you take it the nun says me? Anne says you cant take the word of child I believe what the child tells me Benedict looks at the outline of the leg stump the child says you have it about your person she saw you from the upper bedroom window the nun says sternly must be mistaken must have seen me rub my stump they always watch me rubbing it so nosey the nun sighs and gazes at Annes lap and at the stumps outline show me your leg stump? the nun says hands on her hips Anne pulls up her skirt to reveal the stump Benedict looks too wondering if the book outline could be seen under the knickers the nun looks away where have you put it? put what? the book the prayer book the nun says I havent seen it Anne says as innocent as she can muster innocence lies will get you to Hell the nun says and walks off across the grass like a bad tempered bear what now? Benedict says Anne takes the book out of her knickers and hands it to him warm and scented what do I do with it? he asks shove it on that other chair under the table and were off to the beach so he puts the book under the table and pushes Anne off in the chair off out of reach.
A BOY AND GIRL IN  A NURSING HOME IN 1959 SUSSEX.
Lauren Ehrler Apr 2017
Born brand new-
"Who's that?" I asked,
It was you-
My sister.

Just over a year
And you were here but
I'd never let you fear
My sister

I'd wash you gently
But you became dependent
Consequently
My sister

I'd let you pick
Your favorite toy
And I didn't care a lick
My sister

Now we fight
And scream and laugh
But you always are the light
My sister

We have the same mind,
Can't play on the same team,
But we're always kind
My sister

We defend each other
But go through a lot together
And protect one another
My sister

Without you I would be a brat
I'd lose my priorities
And call people fat

Without you
-My sister-
I would be lost too.

Love,
Your sister
Kenzie Fraz Jul 2014
Once a little sister
having all the
attention
having a big brother
always having him teach
her how to be
the best at everything
always having someone to look up to

Now a big sister
taking the backseat
teaching her little sister
that life happens
when you least expect it

She misses being the baby
she misses her big brother
she misses her role model

She has to be the strong one now

She has to be the role model now.
Sister Dear you've touched my heart
Sister Dear you've been torn apart
Piece by piece
Your rips glued by tears
It seems I've known you through my struggling years
Hold your youth with young ones that follow
They call you mama
Sometimes with curiosity,  other times with excitement
Like an angel you've touched my crippled spirit
With horns of agony
Yet with the smile of forgiveness
Sister Dear oh how you have touched my heart
Sister Dear I see your pain
Sister Dear I'll take your hand
For you have done so much more
Yet you take little credit
Sister Dear hold your head high
Sister Dear Please don't cry..
For my sister in law Beth, she has touched my heart in more ways then I can count, its the little things that mean so much because all it takes is her smile her laugh her advice and forgiveness,  Sister Dear
"Now did you mark a falcon,
  Sister dear, sister dear,
Flying toward my window
  In the morning cool and clear?
With jingling bells about her neck,
  But what beneath her wing?
It may have been a ribbon,
  Or it may have been a ring."--
      "I marked a falcon swooping
        At the break of day:
      And for your love, my sister dove,
        I 'frayed the thief away."--

"Or did you spy a ruddy hound,
  Sister fair and tall,
Went snuffing round my garden bound,
  Or crouched by my bower wall?
With a silken leash about his neck;
  But in his mouth may be
A chain of gold and silver links,
  Or a letter writ to me."--
      "I heard a hound, high-born sister,
        Stood baying at the moon:
      I rose and drove him from your wall
        Lest you should wake too soon."--

"Or did you meet a pretty page
  Sat swinging on the gate;
Sat whistling, whistling like a bird,
  Or may be slept too late:
With eaglets broidered on his cap,
  And eaglets on his glove?
If you had turned his pockets out,
  You had found some pledge of love."--
      "I met him at this daybreak,
        Scarce the east was red:
      Lest the creaking gate should anger you,
        I packed him home to bed."--

"O patience, sister. Did you see
  A young man tall and strong,
Swift-footed to uphold the right
  And to uproot the wrong,
Come home across the desolate sea
  To woo me for his wife?
And in his heart my heart is locked,
  And in his life my life."--
      "I met a nameless man, sister,
        Who loitered round our door:
      I said: Her husband loves her much.
        And yet she loves him more."--

"Fie, sister, fie, a wicked lie,
  A lie, a wicked lie;
I have none other love but him,
  Nor will have till I die.
And you have turned him from our door,
  And stabbed him with a lie:
I will go seek him thro' the world
  In sorrow till I die."--
      "Go seek in sorrow, sister,
        And find in sorrow too:
      If thus you shame our father's name
        My curse go forth with you."
a limited brotherhood is a limited respect
limit is limit of a brotherhood
limit is limit of respect
respect is a limited energy of respect
respect is a limited energy of a brotherhood
respect is a limited energy of a energy
respect is a energy of respect

a limited energy,a limited respect
a sister is a energy of a sister
a sister is a energy of respect
a sister limit the energy of a sister
a sister limit the energy of a brotherhood
a sister is a brotherhood sister
a sisterhood is a limited respect of a sisterhood

a limited respect is a limited sisterhood
respect is a limited respect of a sisterhood
energy is a sisterhood energy
energy is a sisterhood respect
a sisterhood and brotherhood is a limited energy
a sisterhood and brotherhood is a limited energy of a energy
a sisterhood and brotherhood is a limited energy of respect
my writing is called philosophical writing. i only uses middle ages words,words liked gracious,extravaganza,etc… this poem is about an energy of respect is a limited energy.
i don’t add capitalization’s on my writing.
Vera Rice May 2020
I never would have ever dreamed that one day I could lose my mother, sister, niece, and nephew. Until one day my greatest fear came like a thunderstorm in one fateful day.

My day started like normal I got up had coffee, played a few games on my phone spending time with my husband, then I was making a very important phone call about a bill. My baby sister beeped in not thinking it was important and I would call her back later after my bill phone call.

When she beeped in the second time with my bill phone call, I was upset with her and I switched to her call and I screamed out at her. I said what twice until finally, I said hello, she said ***** mama is fine but nobody knows how Missy is doing.

She started to tell me that they had been hit head-on by a drunk driver, I couldn't listen anymore and I handed the phone to my husband who had to tell me everything after the phone call. I jumped on the web and started calling a lot of hospitals but I couldn't find the one they were in.

Finally, my husband told me to use my head, to calm down and think carefully for a moment, I did what he told me to and I got on Facebook and seen my big sister's post and I called her to find out that she had shattered her knee, our mother was in ICU with a fractured c-vertebrae in her neck, a fractured heel on her driving foot five broken ribs and to top it all of her lungs collapsed on her.

I couldn't listen to my big sister my husband had to get the information for me because I couldn't stand the thought of losing my mother, I was told that my niece and nephew was okay that they only had bruises from the crash and that they were with my stepdad who had ***** me at the tender age of twelve.

Later that night I talked to him and he told me that my niece and nephew were in Children's hospital in Columbus, Ohio. I called the hospital and talked to my niece and found out she had a broken arm, and that my nephew only had bruises from the crash.

They had me come up to Ohio to help them until they could walk without support and be able to drive themselves to their therapy. It took them two months to get better, now their ability to help themselves without me. Now that I know that I could lose my mother because she isn't invisible that she is and has always been fragile.

That is one day I could have lost her forever, it would **** me to lose my mother, not only because she is the one who gave birth to me because she has always protected my big sister, my baby sister and me from the beatings of mine and my baby sister's father. She was always wiping my tears away when I was sad when I was a little girl.

She would always kiss my booboos away, she would sing and read me to sleep. She always seemed to be invisible to me, nothing could and never would ever hurt my mother, including death. Death couldn't even touch my mother, but I got the biggest wake-up call in my life when I could have lost her.

She isn't perfect by no means and she wasn't the greatest mother ever, she has beaten me to she has blamed me for things that weren't my doing, she left me and my baby sister alone without food for two weeks at a time. I became a mother at the age of twelve to my baby sister, but with all of the things she did in the past I still love my mother and I don't ever want to lose her, if it came down to my mother and my father, it would hurt me more to lose my mother than my father and both of my sister's agree with me wholeheartedly.

My father and my big sister's father are pieces of ****, but we still love them, but we just love our mother more. So I have faced my greatest fear and I can proudly say that I still have my mother here with me thank God.
I never want to feel that scared feeling of thinking that I almost lost my mother, my big sister, my niece, and my nephew.

I can sleep peacefully knowing that their alive, well, and still with me. By: Vera Rice!
I wrote this just recently after I found out that my family is doing alright
Manauwer Raza May 2014
I have heard people grumble
“I wish I had a sister so humble”

With whom I could share everything
My shoes, my clothes and my earning

A sister who would  help me during my projects
A sister whom I would always need for consent

A sister who could fight with me endlessly
Yet who would help me selflessly

A sister with whom I would share all my thoughts
Without thinking I should tell her or not

A sister who would help sharing my chores
A sister who would sometimes act too stubborn

A sister whom I would boss over
A sister who would understand my every fear

A sister who would want me to shop
And when I tease her she begin to hop

Love you dear sister for always being there
I promise for you I'll always be there
@manauwer
Jacqui Dec 2014
When I was younger my sister asked me what was love.
I told her it is when you care about someone a lot.
This definition is result of my innocence, of my age.
I did not know when I told her that love would be the heart-wrenching terribly beautiful story that it is.
I didn't know that you would give your all to someone who would just walk out the door.
That you could picture your life with them as a main character... just to have them find someone else.
I could not tell my sister that your heart will drop into your stomach when you think they might be gone.
That you might need constant reassurance for days to come, as that evil thought still clouds your mind.
I couldn't tell my sister that sometimes it is a one way street. That sometimes you will do all the loving.
I couldn't tell my sister that the pain of lost love, will haunt your next love. That it is a break that will never mend.
I couldn't tell my sister that your heart still drops when you think of them.
My sister didn't know that your happiness may be set aside, and you'll look out for someone else.
Though, I could tell her now.
I could tell her how you feel you are floating on air and how each day just seems better.
How your jaw hurts from smiling and your stomach from laughing.
How the happiness you feel with another, is indescribable.
I could tell her how life seems easy and the future looks bright.
I could tell my sister how you long to form memories and want to create a world.
But,
what I couldn't tell my sister,
is how amazing it felt to hold your hand.
12/18/14
Blake Aug 2018
Here’s a little story
About a daughter
And her family

See the daughter has depression and anxiety
But the mother is oblivious
The mother is unaware of the depression
She genuinely believes that cutting and the fact that her daughter goes to therapy are linked to anxiety

And yet
Even though the mother seems to think that it’s only anxiety
Meaning that the anxiety is that extreme
She still wakes the daughter up
By screaming
She still questions the daughter
In front of a crowd
She still yells at the daughter, overwhelms her
And sends her into a panic attack

And yet all the people on the outside see is a mother worried about her daughter
And trying to help her
By taking her to therapy
But they don’t see the locked doors
They don’t see the screaming
The name calling
The belittling
They don’t see
That the mother
Is the reason that the daughter
Has to fight
So **** hard
To want to live

They don’t see that the daughter is only happy with her friends
They don’t see the scars on her arms, legs, and hips
They don’t see that the daughters only escape is when she’s not at home
They don’t see that the very therapist the mother takes her to
Is proud of the daughter
For staying alive
In such
Rough
Circumstances
Blood doesn’t mean family

But enough about the mother lets move on to the father.
The father that refused to pay child support for the first 3 years after the divorce
The father that had a second child, the daughter’s half brother, with another woman
The father that is engaged to a different woman now
The father that, when evacuated from his city due to a fire, took his fiancé to Jamaica instead of seeing his kids
The father that forgot his daughters birthday
The father that is “old school”
Which just means
Sexist
And homophobic
Blood doesn’t mean family

Next is the sister
The sister that supports me
The sister that laughs with me
The sister that understands how I feel
The sister that helps me when I need it
The sister that believes in me
That loves me
The sister creates fun and amazing stories and experiences with me
Just because she’s in the mood to have fun
The sister that raised me to be a good person
That taught me
And teaches me
How to get through life
Blood doesn’t mean family

Finally
The friends
The friend that gave me a reason to live
The friend that gave me a reason to laugh
The friend that showed me that it can get better and that they love and care for me and they don’t just “hope I get through this” but that they are going to be there and make sure that I get through this
The friend that marched with me with a rainbow
The friend that treated my relationships the same as straight ones
The friend that told me she’s open to the experience if I want to kiss her
The friends that I can flirt with and we laugh about it
The friends that I can flirt with and it becomes a little more than just friends
The friends who maybe I’m not as close with but who still show interest in my life and what I’m interested in and let me talk about activism because it makes me happy to empower people
The friend that made me believe in beautiful
The friend that stayed up with me when I had a nightmare about my molesting and help my hand until I fell back asleep
The friend that stated up all night on FaceTime singing songs together from our favourite band
The friend that boosts my ego when we go to the gym
The friend that cried when she found out I self harmed
The friends that worry about me and want me to get better
The friends that live far away
The friends that live close by
The friends that have shown me more love and happiness in the past year than I’ve known my whole life
The friend that was there even when I felt numb to the world and they just let me be but they made sure I know they’re here
The friends that ask questions when they don’t understand
The friends that are interested in what I do
The friends that offer me a place to stay should I need it
The friends who make sure I eat
The friends who worry when I don’t eat
The friends who sit at the back of the bus
The friends who get drunk
The friends who throw skittles at people
The friends who are in my class
The friends who are older than me
The friends who are younger than me
The friends who help me with homework
The friends who show me there are good people in the world
The friends
Who stick by me
And show me
That
Blood doesn’t mean family

We don’t choose the situation we are born into
But we do get to choose
Who our family is
So thank you
To my real family
For not only keeping me alive
But making me happy to be.
The blood of the covenant is thicker than the water of the womb
We might be sister's
But I don't have to be like her
Just because were sisters
Doesn't mean I understand her
Just because were sisters
Doesn't mean you can use me
Just because were sisters
Doesn't mean I know her
Just because were sister's
Doesn't mean Im disposable at the chance to have her
Just because were sister's
Doesn't mean Im the second best to her
Just because were sister's
Doesn't mean you can ***** me and then her
Just because were sister's
Doesn't mean a thing
Just because were sister's
Means she'll choose me over you any day
Just because were sister's
I love her
Victoria Queen Oct 2013
We sat on the couch, snuggled in blankets, watching "The Iron Giant." I was only eight and realized that my older sister had let me stay up past my bedtime.; it was almost 10:30 PM and the neighborhood had settled into a sleepy silence. My parents were out to dinner and a movie, a date-night that they rarely ever indulged in, and my sister was babysitting me instead of going out with all of her pre-teen friends. It felt nice to actually hang out with Sam, and bond with her.

A little more than halfway into the movie, the snacks caught up to me and I needed a drink. "Sam, can you pause the movie? Come with me to get something to drink really quick." Such a simple request, yet I could have never imagined, in my childish state of mind, what was coming within the next five minutes.

We both walked into the dark kitchen, and to this day I wonder why neither of us turned the light on. I leaned against the doorway that lead to the kitchen and watched as my sister went to the fridge. I asked for chocolate milk - the craving for it came unexpectedly. As she opened the door to the refrigerator, the light from the inside of it spilled into the short hallway leading to our front door. I followed the small pool of light with my eyes until I was suddenly looking at the door - and also looking at Him. I saw His figure looming on the other side of the door, His shadow moving slowly and quietly. My entire body froze; I felt paralyzed and lost the ability to hear anything except for my heart pounding within my chest. My small, fragile body stood completely still, and remained still even as I watched my front door open. The way He walked towards me seemed like slow motion, and He looked like a giant in the small hallway. I felt like I couldn't move a muscle or else I would fall apart, like a game of Jenga. Finally, He stepped into a sliver of light, and I stared into His mostly hidden face; He was wearing a hooded sweatshirt, with the hood covering His head and most of His face, except for His eyes. I felt shredded by the look in them - full of confusion, rage, and maybe even fear."You're never gonna believe this - but it was a giant metal man." I could hear the movie blaring from the living room. I felt the way the boy in the film did; I was staring at this Man who was a giant compared to me, and He must have been made of metal - no human, made of flesh and with a beating heart, could encounter a terrified child and still proceed to attempt to destroy her. He was a Giant Metal Man.

When my eyes met His in that moment, it shook me and tore me out of my frozen state. Finally, my muscles contracted as I took a step away and backed into the other side of the doorway. My chest opened up and drew in just enough air to let out a scream, and my eyes were darting around the room, looking at everything, because I didn't want to look at Him. Within seconds, Sam reacted. I had almost forgotten that she was in the room with me - all I could feel was His presence. I watched as she threw an entire gallon of milk at the Man; it made contact with something, but I'm not sure if it was with Him or the walls of the hallway. The carton exploded, and milk was gushing into the air like a volcanic eruption, washing over the walls and the floor and probably over Him. When the milk settled, all I could see was His dark figure running out of the same door He came in, leaving it crashing against the wall. His feet were audibly slamming down on the sidewalk outside. Then, there was darkness.

My senses shut down completely after He disappeared from my sight. I was moving, but my mind was somewhere else. My sister grabbed me and basically dragged my confused body into our bedroom; she ordered me to get on the floor and she shoved me under our bed. From the floor, I could see her feet moving frantically around the room. Things were being moved and thrown, and she was breathing heavily. Finally, she grabbed something and ran to our window that looked out onto the street. I saw a flash and heard the snap and the print; she had taken a picture with our Polaroid. The picture fell to the floor just next to the bed, and I watched as it developed slowly. I could make out nothing in the picture but a black, beaten-up Volvo. It was as if I was looking at a still-framed picture from a movie, and that everything going on in that moment was fake; but the sound of a car peeling ferociously out of my driveway outside snapped me right back into reality, and I knew that it was Him. I was angry that He was able to drive away from the nightmare that he created, and that I had to stay.

Still under the bed, my body began to recover from the state of shock it was in, and I cried out for my sister. She grabbed my hands and pulled me out from under the bed and asked me if I was okay, and if I could tell her anything that I saw. I couldn't form the words to tell her about His eyes, about His hidden face, and about how slow He was walking towards me, an innocent child. All I could do was cry and I began begging her to call our parents. She carefully lead me back into the kitchen, where the door was still swung open and the milk was flooding over the floor. She picked up the phone and first called our Aunt who lived on the floor above us, explaining in short what happened and asking her to please come downstairs. She immediately came with her son, our cousin, who is the same age as Sam, and she offered to call our parents and the police for us. I stood in the room trying to tell everyone what I saw and what happened, but I kept telling them that it happened so fast and I couldn't see His entire face. "His eyes," I said. I repeated it dozens of times. I was shaking uncontrollably, and could not calm my breathing.

The rest of the night is a blur. Police officers were coming in and out of our home, asking questions that I couldn't even understand or comprehend. My parents came home and were panicking, my mother on the verge of tears. At some point, I laid down in my mother's bed and fell asleep - when I woke up in the middle of the night, my older sister was in the bed as well. Then, I laid there and listened to the sounds of the night - the crickets, the late-night commuters that drove by once in a while, and creaks and cracks of the floor. The sun eventually came up, and I was still awake, almost waiting for a new day and new feelings. However, the shock was still there, and it hung over my head and lingered around me like a ghost.

Within the following week after that night, four different homes were burglarized on our street. Finally, we received a call that the cops had caught the Man, and my parents hoped that it would bring some relief to my sister and I, who were sleeping in our parents' room every night since our break -in. It didn't. It left me feeling nothing except more fear; I constantly thought of Him returning to our home and finishing His "job." I sat in the bedroom, where I hid under the bed that night, and watched out the window for hours on end every day, waiting for His car to appear. But the worst feeling that I had was when I finally let myself wonder why He had come that night, and what His plan was. I pictured the things He would have done to me and my sister if I hadn't screamed and triggered my sister's reaction. Would He have ***** me? Beat me? Kidnapped me? Killed me? The possibilities were endless because it was as if the story had no ending, and I had the option to write my own. I could not silence my imagination, or stop myself from thinking about what He was thinking about doing to me when He saw me in the doorway. It occurred to me that the look in His eyes was not fear, or confusion, or even rage -it was malicious intent. It haunted me for days, and then weeks, and soon enough, years.

12 years later, I have come to terms with the real-life nightmare that I experienced that night. I have accepted His presence in my life; He exists in the footsteps I hear late at night outside my house, the inexplainable noises that echo in the walls of my kitchen and living room and bedroom, and the pressure from the wind that causes my house to constantly move and settle at night. He has no name and no face in my head; the only thing that He has is eyes. His eyes watch me from the inside of my mind. He exists in my kitchen, as if a ghost in a haunted home. He exists in the disorders that He left me impaired with for the rest of my life. He exists everywhere around me. The only thing that's different about then and now is that I have learned to live with Him haunting my dreams, and my reality. I will always feel the fear - but it no longer paralyzes me. I suffered through the sleepless nights, and the nightmares when I actually did sleep; I dealt with the uncontrollable screams for help in the middle of the night when I was only dreaming. Now, all I have left to do is live; not without fear, but with fear and also understanding that there is a reason for everything. I have accepted the fact that I will never be able to separate myself from the memory or the terror that I have been subjected to living with, and to me, that is the first and biggest step that I needed to take.
This is a true account of one of the most terrifying nights of my life from my childhood. Writing this took just over 12 years; It's incredibly hard to relive the images and memories of that night. I was recently diagnosed with Post Traumatic Stress Disorder and Panic Disorder, all stemming from this event. It's a big bite to swallow, but I've learned to live with all of it. Part of the coping process has been telling people and allowing my experience to exist outside of my head, and it has helped the most to write about it. I live freely and I'm not stuck in a world of fear - and I believe this kind of expression of the scariest moment of my life helps me with that.
Cassandra Forte Mar 2012
Mother told me to be brave.

Father told me he wouldn’t tell.

Sister told me to have fun.



Mother gave me food.

Father gave me money.

Sister gave me drugs.



Mother told me too much.

Father told me too little.

Sister shared her thoughts with me.



Mother screamed at me.

Father ignored me.

Sister blamed me.



Mother cried to me.

Father lied to me.

Sister left me.



Mother lost me.

Father never had me.

Sister is still finding me.



Mother invaded me.

Father destroyed me.

Sister scared me.



Mother was proud of me.

Father was proud of me.

Sister was proud of me.



Mother made me angry.

Father made me sad.

Sister made me laugh.



Mother hugged me.

Father kissed me.

Sister held me.



I wanted none of it, and all of it at once.
Mia J May 5
My sister, my sister what happened to you?
You were so beautiful and unique
Now you’ve warped into a new being
Physically you hate what you see
You want airbags and silicone
It’s your body so do what you please
But when one pops and the other drops
You were beautifully unique
My sister, my sister what happened to your mindset?
You once dreamed of love, now you hate it
You can’t hate something you never truly had
Every man doesn’t cheat
Every man won’t hurt you
My sister, my sister what happened to your self-esteem?
Was it there once?
Did too much media change it?
Were you told that your standards are too high?
Why do you call yourself an animal?
It’s not affectionate
Neither cute
A man can’t call you that
Neither should you or your friends
No matter how it’s said, it’s still disrespectful
My sister, my sister you’re a Queen
Behave like one
12/11/2018
-Mia J

© 2018 Mia J
This poem was composed in 2018
Boaz Priestly Apr 2015
RIP -A Poem For Leelah Alcorn
Do not tell me
that it gets better
when another one of my
people another one of
my sisters
and surely thousands of brothers
but this sister
who I didn’t even get the
chance to meet
this sister
whose blog I only knew about
thanks to her suicide note
this sister
whose parents can’t even respect
her pronouns after she is dead
they did not lose a son
they drove a daughter
their daughter
to end her life
and even after her body
is not yet cold in the ground
still call her son
your darling son died years ago
and now your daughter is dead too
and she isn’t coming back
this isn’t an accident
I know what suicide looks like
I have almost been a victim many times

Do not tell me
that it gets better
when my sister is dead
and she is being misgendered
in the news articles and media

Do not tell me
that it gets better
when she
Leelah Alcorn
that is her name
was pushed to suicide by an
uncaring un-understanding world

Do not tell me
that it gets better
when my sister is dead
and her parents still have the nerve
to beg for sympathy and call
her a boy
even after death

Do not tell me
that it gets better
when we are still killing ourselves
only to be written off as mere statistics
and gender-identity
sexuality in and of itself
still isn’t taught in schools

Do not tell me
that it gets better
when my sister is dead
and I cannot attend her funeral
all I can do is write ****** poetry
and hope that she forgives me for not
being able to speak around the lump
in my throat

Do not tell me
that it gets better
when countless people that were
born in the wrong body
that do not fit the norms
will be misgendered at their funerals

Do not tell me
that it gets better
because the harsh reality is
that thousands of us will
live life in fear
drowning in a hopelessness
and sadness that nobody else knows
because not all of us have accepting
families and friends
and our suicides will be written off
as mere accidents
but nobody steps in front of
a semi on accident

Do not tell me
that it gets better
when my sister died knowing
thinking knowing thinking knowing
that her parents didn’t love her
they loved their son
they will mourn their son
when it is their daughter that died
and she will never know a true mothers and fathers love

Do not tell me
that it gets better
when the harsh truth is that
if I do not change my name legally
I too will be
misgendered at my funeral

Do not tell me
that it will get better
when my sister is dead
unless you want to feel the wrath
of my transgender rage
over the injustice that is written across the scars on our wrists and signed on the dotted lines of our suicide notes

Do not tell me
that it will get better
because my sister died not
knowing that
Marian Jul 2013
Come with me, Fairy Sister
Let us send the pixie dust flying
We have lives to cheer, hearts to heal
And wings to mend
Come with me, Fairy Sister
Dance with me under the Moon
Dance by my side in that Fairy Ring
In which we dance each Night
Come with me, Fairy Sister
And gaze at the stars in the midnight sky
Sit beside me on that mushroom
And fly with me in the sky
Come with me, Fairy Sister
Let us make mortals dreams sweet
Let us help to brighten their days
In hopes that no one will ever be sad
Help me to help them see the brighter side of life
That we Fairies always see
Come with me, Fairy Sister
And dance beside the bubbling creek
Let us waltz in a field of flowers
And fly in the brightest of rays
Come with me, Fairy Sister
Down that woodland path
Where its shady and cool
With little breezes sighing through the pines
Like whispers of secrets dancing
Through the wind
Come with me, Fairy Sister
And with me play that pedal harp
Making a beautiful melody
On those simple strings
Help me ring out a nocturnal symphony
Come with me, Fairy Sister
And we'll be best sisters and friends
Forever

*~Marian~
Simon Monahan Feb 2018
Sister, I tremble in the shade
Of your impending absence feared
Its shadow looming ominous
Sister, does anything ever die?

Brother, this place that we have made
Our garden mutually beloved
And all things must pass to dust
Brother, is permanence a lie?

Sister, if the leaves are golden now
We may be sure they’re soon to fall
We are not immortal evergreen
Sister, you won’t forget to pray?

Brother, though I know not how
I’m sure souls needn’t finally part
But did the poet weigh his words
Brother, can nothing gold e’er stay?

Sister, gold is too precious for rust
But listen to the call, ahead
We cannot neglect our course
Sister, are you glad you came?

Brother, although part we must
And suffer heart-strings joined to cut
Love, still whole, knows no regret
Brother, you won’t forget my name?

Sister, though the country’s breadth
Brings doleful separation on
Love’s memory scorns the divide
Sister, is it not true?

Brother, O, it feels like death
When love bridges the awful gap
It splinters, weeping, grieves the loss
Brother, what can I do?

Sister, dear, look to the Bread
The cup divine, I am outpoured
Souls mingle in the Victim’s blood
Sister, shan’t we run this race?

Brother, I see now in the Head
His every member blessed and joined,
And so unbound by space or time
Brother, there we shall embrace.
Written in concert with a dear friend
Desi Feb 2019
Little siblings,
please stop growing.
I wasn’t there for your first words.
Your first steps.
Your first days of school.
Your first anything.

Little siblings,
I know you don’t understand the world around you.
Why you don’t see me like you should
I wish I could hide you, you’ll never feel pain.

Little siblings,
I wish I could teach you about life
Good music
God
manners
And morals

Little siblings,
I want to be the perfect role model for you
I want to show you that family can be together
I want to show you a good life.
I want you to see where working hard,
Living for God,
And never being afriad to ask for help can get you.

Little siblings,
I see the world in your tiny eyes
And I hope I become someone you look up to.
I know you see me as strong, caring, and loving.
And I want to continue showing you that I am.

Little brother,
You came at the perfect time
You put light in my life I didn’t know I needed
You call me beautiful every time I see you

You give me big hugs that warm my heart.

Little sister,
I held you and I knew I had to build myself into the women I want you to be.
I know I’m not perfect but in your eyes I am.
You yell “*****” when you see me

You give me big hugs that warm my heart.

Little siblings,
I wish your laugh could always fill my room
I wish I could see you like I should
You used to be so tiny
Where has the time gone?

“Big sister” feels so important

Big sister has to be perfect for you
Big sister wants to be there more
Big sister wants to watch you grow

Big sister will always be someone you can rely on
Call  upon  
A helping hand
A loving hug
A long talk

Big sister can be someone you laugh with
Or cry with

Big sister will always love you
Never judge you
And always support you.
Why do we treat each other this way?
Feels like our words are only a chain . . .

Sister-chained
            why do you
treat me this way?

Sister-chained
            How do I
get you to change?

Sister-chained
            why oh why?
Oh why, even today,
            I'm sister-chained?

Noth-ing but pain,
Born to be sisters except for this pain,
That pain, the words, pain it remains. . .

Sister-chained
conflict between us al-ways remains,
conflict between us remains.

Sister-chained
            unchain your hearts for love.
Oh woe,

Sister-chained
            How do I
get you to change?            
unchain your hearts for love.
Oh woe,


Oh woe. . .
Ever notice how critical and abusive women are towards each other?
Kate Eddy Jun 2019
The blaze took the house with great speed,
Those inside at once had fleed,
But all was not as it appeared,
For when at last the smoke had cleared,
Among the husk of the home
The children discovered they were alone.

They dashed about at a frantic pace,
Looking around for the smallest trace,
Fearing the worst was yet to pass,
One last glance the children cast,
It was then they noticed her cloth of blue,
And the fate of their mother they finally knew.

Running to where their mother laid,
They knew a farewell they'd have to bade,
Knowing that they couldn't stay
For their only relative live far away,
When their mother was put to rest at last
Julie knew she had to push them past.

Leaving the ashes of their past behind,
Hoping a new home they would find,
Julie did for her sisters all she could,
Knowing that reliving the past would do no good.
And so at last Julie and sisters journey began
To reach their home was the only plan.

When the sky turned black as night,
Julie knew something was not quite right,
Stopping their ride Julie and Linda can tell
That something must not be going well,
As they returned they were alarmed to see
Their sister Clotild drowning in the sea.

Julie at once knew what to do,
Into the water at once she flew,
Clotild's head went slowly down below,
The fate of her sister Linda afraid to know,
But when Julie came to the surface at last
Seeing Clotild, Linda knew the danger had passed.

"Clotild, what were you thinking?" they wished to know,
Clotild answered simply saying she was hot and wished to go,
To cool her feet with the fresh feel of the sea
At the time not seeing where the fault could be,
Please don't do that again, they'd scold,
For had they not known, a different story would of been told.

Racing to where the smoke had led,
Each took in the scene with dread,
As flames spread across the little town
Chaos had evidently ensued all around,
Julie looked about the destroyed land,
Knowing what it was like to see the damage firsthand.

What Julie saw then made her blood go cold,
For upon a burning threshold
A girl lay unconscious in need of aid,
Julie knew if she stayed
Or if she delayed-
A heavy price the girl would of paid.

Julie ran as fast as she ever had before,
Diving last minute towards the floor,
Dragging the girl safely away,
The girl opened her eyes as if to say,
She felt she was going to be okay,
Julie couldn't imagine how she'd come to be alone,
Thankfully, evidence of life had clearly shown.

Many had seen what had transpired,
The courage of Julie they had all admired,
But when asked why she put herself in harm's way,
She said, I couldn't very well let her stay,
Julie then took her to where Linda and Clotild stood
Knowing that she'd done all that she could.

It was clear that the girl had no home,
As tattered clothes had clearly shown,
Julie realized that there was one thing she could do,
Knowing that the girl's options were few,
She decided to offer her a chance to restart,
For with them she'd always be a part.

Frightened she was when she finally awoke,
Noticing in gentle tones the sisters spoke,
What happened? They wished to know,
Tears at once began to flow,
They listened to the tale she wished to be told,
As the story of Chloe began to unfold.

I'm an only child, I only had my mom and dad,
In fact they were the only family that I had,
I had to do homeschooling for we were too poor,
Yet, even with that I'd been happy as none before,
Then today fire took my home and the next I'd known
I was fighting for life on my own.

Julie didn't know what to say,
Yet she noticed even now Chloe seemed to be okay,
As if she'd accepted what had passed,
Hoping her parents would feel peace at last,
Linda and Clotild felt like they could relate,
It seemed as if tragedy was the common trait.

As they continued on their way,
Julie and her sister's story they relay,
Finishing with when they had met,
There was something Chloe couldn't forget,
She looked at Julie asking,"Why help me?"
For the reasoning she did not see.

Julie looked at her kindly and without hesitation said,
If I didn't move I knew you'd be dead,
I knew I couldn't leave you there to die
Hopeless though it seemed at the time I had to try,
I took a emergency class a few weeks ago you see,
And the first thing I was taught was never to flee.

The spell of silence was suddenly shattered,
When Julie noticed a girl pale and battered,
Who suddenly collapsed in a heap
As if she'd fallen fast asleep,
Julie went at once to her side,
Sweat thick on her brow she spied.

They knew something had to be done,
Already the setting of the sun had begun,
Julie drove as fast as she could,
And into view a little town stood,
Spotting a doctor's office the girls go,
Hoping the illness the doctor will know.

Slowly the girl began to groan,
Opening her eyes confusion shown,
Seeing her awake Chloe asked her name,
Instead of an answer a blank look came,
The doctor took the girl into another room
Returning a few moments later with a look of gloom.

"Please, she said gesturing to some seats,
With a critical look she asked,"How'd you meet?"
We were driving along when we saw her in the road,
The girls said as their concern clearly showed,
The girl sat in quiet destress as the doctor stressed
This poor child's memory is quite a mess.

"What could you possibly mean?" Julie asked at last,
The doctor answered as a pitiful glance she cast,
She doesn't know who she is or where she's from,
Linda asked," Then for her.....what is to come?"
She will have to go into foster care I'm afraid,
Yet as she said that the girl had swayed.  

Julie was at her side rather quickly,
As the girl appeared even more sickly,
Against Julie the girl then went,
As if to show her energy was clearly spent,
Julie and Linda laid her in a bed,
Knowing she heard all that was said.

The next day when the first ray of sun appeared,
The girl's condition seemed to have cleared,
She said to the doctor as if to get her to see,
I think those girls are my only family,
Julie heard what she said wondering where this would lead
For it appeared as if she planted a seed.

The doctor went to the girls asking if this was true,
"Yes, was the answer that Julie threw,
As the doctor could not prove them wrong,
The girl was allowed to come along,
Leaving the little town behind,
All appeared to have recent events on mind.

Finally Julie asked the girl as she wished to understand,
What was it that made it so she lied to change the plan,
The girl said at last, I felt a bit safer with you,
And I'm not saying that the doctor wouldn't know what to do,
But you helped me , even though you didn't know me at all,
I didn't want to be alone, she said appearing small .

They looked at the girl in a kind way,
At first not knowing what to say,
Finally, Linda asked if she remembered her name,
The girl responded with much disdain,
I'm afraid no name comes to mind,
And I want to leave my past behind.

It's time I start again she proclaimed,
As things can never be the same,
I think we should start with who I am,
So you can call me and all can understand,
How do you like Lucy as a name?
I think that will do nicely as it is simple and plain.

And Lucy was what the girl was to be known,
As if to show how she felt, relief was what had shown,
Lucy then listened to their adventure,
Ending with when they'd met her,
Lucy looked at Julie in a new light,
Saying, "now I know my decision was right."

When the day had come to an end ,
A night under the stars the girls did spend,
Do you ever think about that day ? Asked Clotild
Her voice was sadness filled,
Julie and Linda glanced at her and with pity said,
Clotild we've got to move ahead.

Clotild said nothing and proceeded to bed,
As if to shut out her sister's presence instead,
The next day away from her sisters Clotild did stay,
And not one word did she say,
They came at last to a city to see,
And angry mob corner a girl while she looked back defiantly.

The girls went at once to the scene,
So the situation they could glean,
Linda asked what they were doing,
The mob answered saying, a thief is who we're pursuing,
Linda got in front of the girl asking, "what has she stolen?"
A shop owner pointed saying, it's in the bag she's pullin.

Linda took the bag and looked inside,
In which many foods did reside,
The group glanced at the girl asking the cost,
Paying for the items they had lost,
As the mob slowly trickled away –
the girls asked why she didn't pay .

The girl hung her head Shamed,
you can't blame me she claimed,
at first they had not caught on,
it was then that a girl came along ,
she doesn't have any Home,
she's with me and we're on our own.

My name is Nancy and this is Carol she said,
saying this as if on thin Ice they did tread,
Julie stepped forward and said then,
We won't hurt you, we are friends,
Linda went to them with the bag
knowing that it was all they had.

Once the bag was in their possession,
Nancy said as her weariness began to lessen,
"Thank you for all that you did,"
and with that the farewell they bid
later that night where the girls stayed,
an unexpected visit Nancy and Carol paid.

Hey , Chloe said is everything okay?
Carol answered saying we decided not to stay,
the girls looked at each other asking where they go,
as all of them now wish to know ,
Nancy looked at the girls with hopeful pleasure,
Hoping to find a life that was better.

We were wondering if we could join you guys
and find out where our future lies,
Come and join us, Lucy said to them,
for now they only saw friends,
it was then their story they began to tell,
and at once silence fell.

We are sisters you see,
For so long we'd no where to be,
Believe it or not we had a home,
Better than any have ever known,
For a minute not a word was said,
Carol continued with a look of dread.

"We were well off because of our parents occupations,
The girls listened with much anticipation,
My mom was a doctor and dad was a lawyer you see,
That's why we were such a wealthy family,
One day, said Nancy picking up the story, that changed
Dad came and with mom words were exchanged.

Apparently, dad was being sued,
For as far as his client viewed,
Dad hadn't done all that he could,
Therefore to his client he was no good,
I don't know how much they took,
But the nerves of our parents it clearly shook.

Soon word spread throughout our town,
And eventually people stopped coming to him all around,
Soon mom had to pay for all of bills on her own,
And the stress of it had clearly shown,
One day our parents argued whether or not to send us away,
Carol and I didn't bother to stay.

The girls looked at them with dismay,
Wishing there was something they could say,
Nancy continued saying, the next day we packed our bags,
As she said this  her shoulders sagged,
We knew then that we'd never see our home again,
I thought Carol and I eventually mend.

We ran away from every place we were sent,
Even though no unkindness any family meant,
Since that time we've been alone with nowhere to go,
Sighing, Nancy said, now our story you know,
Julie put her hand reassuringly on Nancy's shoulder,
Thanks for letting us know, she had told her.

What about you? The two sisters wish to be told ,
So to the sisters the story did unfold,
Nancy and Carol stared at Julie with the look of awe,
As if realizing only now who it was that they saw,
Is this really true? They asked as if yet to believe,
It's true, they said as if to show they didn't deceive.

"We've heard of you! Carol said suddenly,
As if the memories of those events surfaced finally,
You were on the news a few days ago,
She looked at Nancy as if she'd know,
Yes, Nancy slowly said as if the story began to return,
Julie was surprised at what the news people had learned.

I just helped those who I thought I could,
Just like I think anyone should,
Carol and Nancy smiled at Julie as if happy to know,
To a new home with Julie they would go,
Several weeks had passed since their journey began,
And out of Europe they were as they planned.

Six days later in New York they came,
And though tired they were happy to be on land all the same,
Through the vast city the girls drove,
Right down New York's main roads,
Throughout the day many had noticed the girls go,
As recognition slowly began to grow.

Comments circled about them regularly,
"Can't we be left alone!", Clotild said sullenly,
Linda and Julie glanced at Clotild momentarily,
She was worse then they thought, they noticed worryingly,
They went to a park and set up camp for the night,
Somewhere that was out of sight.

The glow of the moon lit up their camp in soft light,
Julie and Linda had a feeling that Clotild wasn't alright,
She hardly paid them any heed,
And when they approached she'd recede,
They wished they could make her feel better,
But she was just too bitter.

The next day the girls went through  to Nebraska's state,
Clotild what's wrong? Chloe asked seeing a look of hate,
"I'm fine!" Clotild said violently,
The girls stared at her silently,
It was then that Linda and Chloe swapped,
As the others continued to look at Clotild shocked.

A village came out of the blue,
Those in the village had looked at them as if the girls they knew,
As they set up camp villagers watched in awe
Not believing who it was that they saw,
A girl said, " mommy it's the girl from tv,
The mother glanced in their direction saying-it is indeed.

Looking in their direction Julie sees,
Sheltered in the shade of the shops a girl looked on miserably,
Julie went at once to her to see what was wrong,
All at once had withdrawn,
As the girl noticed and began to retreat, Julie shouted wait!
Catching up Julie noticed that she was pale and under weight.

Are you okay? Lucy asked then,
As a cut Julie did tend,
Linda went and got her food and drink,
And looking at the girl Julie began to think,
Looking at the girl seeing the bleeding,
Julie asked her what was wrong and she said," I was fleeing."

Julie glanced at the others with concern,
Trouble at once they began to discern,
Julie took the girl into her tent,
The other girls to guard the tent they went,
An hour later Julie came out at last,
How bad is it? They asked noticing the look she cast.

Her name is Rose and she's frightened and has good reason,
Julie said this her voice began to lessen,
Last night her parents were robbed and killed,
She witnessed it Julie said her voice with concern filled,
After a minute she continued, apparently the robber knew,
She ran because she didn't know what to do.

She's still in shock unfortunately,
Since no one's caught him he's still at large you see,
She no longer has a home,
She's afraid and she's on her own,
We can't leave her alone with that man on the run,
Okay we'll leave tomorrow at the rising of the sun.

The next day at first light the girls left the village behind,
Each one with the thought of home on their mind,
The sky was crystal clear the air crisp and sweet,
For a minute a pair of eyes Julie did meet,
It was a figure of a boy her age she saw then,
She did not see him again.

For the rest of the day Julie's attention seemed to stray,
To that boy that didn't stay,
Who was it who she had seen?
Was it an illusion or a dream?
As she watched the smoke from their fire burn into the night,
Something went across Julie's sight in flight.

Julie got up and said,"whose out there?"
As this reaction seemed quite fair,
It was then a boy had appeared as a silhouette in the night,
Julie went up to him before he went out of sight,
Why are you following us? she asked her voice tight,
Looking at him Julie can tell something's not right.

Hello Julie, I've come to warn you,
So when the time comes you'll know what to do,
There is one among you you call your friend,
That person you'll lose in the end,
Julie glaring said, " What do you mean then?"
The boy said," the one you call a friend will betray you in the end

Beware he said on and on,
Then as suddenly as he appeared he was gone,
Julie looked at the place where the girls laid,
Suddenly feeling very afraid,
She didn't know why for she thought it couldn't be true,
So to bed she went and thoughts of that night flew.

The next day into Colorado they appeared,
For all the girls weariness at last had cleared,
As each knew their journey was about to end,
And soon all of them would have a home again,
Keeping that in mind, the girls look until a clearing they find
Where a cabin lay with trees behind.

The group went to work setting up camp,
As the air turned cool and damp,
The girls sat to eat dinner at 6:00 that night,
Finishing they feel tired and Julie knows something isn't right,
Because try as they did to stay awake,
Julie knew a drug was placed in something they ate or drank.

As Julie was the last to go down,
The closing of a door was her last sound,
When she woke at last around a room a glance was thrown,
As this room she had not known,
Wondering where you are? Asked Clotild in a mocking tone,
Julie looked at her as confusion shown.

Clotild what.....Julie stopped as understanding grew,
Julie felt as if she'd been hit in the face as she said,"It's you!"
"Why? Julie asked, what have any of us done to deserve this?"
Looking at the others who she originally missed,
Clotild glared as she said, " you don't care or know
To hear Julie this and Julie that wherever you go.

Yet even with that- before any of this began,
Instead of taking command,
You left mom in that fire to die,
And you didn't even bother to try!
So yes Julie, it was me
Because I had every right to be.

"Clotild, how could I have known this would of occurred?"
Yet even as she said this, she knew she wasn't heard,
Goodbye Julie, said Clotild as she stood,
"Clotild, Julie said realizing it'd do no good,
Julie tried to stand only to find her hands and feet tied,
Clotild ran out the door as the binds she tried.

When Julie freed herself to the door she went,
Without luck opening the door her energy she spent,
The others finally woke with a groan,
All went to Julie as she sat alone,
Linda came to her asking, Where are we?
And where is Clotild? For it was her they didn't see.

As they looked at Julie they knew something was wrong,
For she had an expression that didn't belong,
Julie told what happened and the girls began to dispute,
"It's true, said Julie at last , an answer they couldn't refute,
"What are we gonna do? What are we gonna do?
The answer of which nobody knew.

The door was locked from the outside,
And yet no matter how hard they tried,
The door had stayed in it's place,
It seemed like too much for the girls to face,
When all seemed lost and hopeless then,
The door opened revealing only a friend.

The boy Julie had met came at once to her side,
As a look of depression on her face he spied,
"Who are you? asked Rose suspicion clear in her voice,
I'm a friend and I'm here to help, he said by choice,
"How did you find us?" asked Julie her annoyance plain,
"I followed your sister as she took you away", he claimed.

We might as well leave as there is no reason to stay,
"Be wary, your sister intends to make you pay,
What on earth could you mean? asked Linda upset,
Wondering how much worse things could possibly get,
But again as suddenly as he had come to their aid,
He vanished as if to show they were too much delayed.

Their journey home they still went,
To each other their strength they lent,
Not one word had anyone said,
For due to recent events their hearts were filled with lead,
Finally a town came into sight,
As they came they noticed a girl in flight.

From trouble the girl ran,
Behind her as she went she scanned,
Glancing to where her eyes lead,
The group at once to guard the girl they sped,
For a few thieves at once took chase,
Stop! Julie said intent on putting them in their place.

They stopped asking, And why would we listen to you?
At once a fist Julie threw and away they flew,
At last the girl the group had found,
Julie went to her saying, "they're gone, no one's around."
The girl glanced shyly about,
Sure it was now safe she then came out.

"Why bother to help me when you didn't know me at all?"
With them after me, I don't see why on you responsibility'd fall,
They had no right to take from you,
And I knew there was something I could do,
The girl said, I don't even have a home,
I was going to try and  find a life of my own.

Would you like to come with us? asked Rose,
Really...yes please the girl said as the door on her past closed,
What is your name? asked Rose facing their new friend,
Sky, said the girl as a note of confidence she did send,
Where you heading? asked Sky as they left the town behind
Linda said, we're hoping our dad we'll find.

Sky asked confused, what could you mean?
So the girls explained how their journey came into being,
Sky was so amazed that for a minute she could only say,
Julie there's no way
They looked at her and Lucy said, it's true,
And her admiration of Julie quickly grew.

Sky then said, I am sorry that your sister lost her way,
For the wound was still fresh and twas a heavy price to pay,
Thank you, Julie said to break the ice,
For silence had latched on as a vice,
At long last to their father's house they came,
Realizing to each girl life wouldn't be the same.

Knocking on the door as anticipation did build,
Throughout Julie's being fear had filled,
For Clotild's eyes Julie had met,
A look Clotild sent as if to say Julie's actions she'd regret,
At once Clotild took flight-
Quickly vanishing from Julie's sight.

"We need to get inside now, Julie said urgently,
The girls glanced at Julie not seeing what the trouble could be,
Julie? Asked Linda with growing concern,
Seeing what she could learn,
She's here, was all Julie had said,
The girls heard and looked around with dread.

The door opened to show a man with a serious look,
Asking angrily," where is the money that you took?
Your money was stolen? Was it by a girl with blond hair?
The man looked annoyed saying yes as if he'd despaired,
We'll get it back, Julie said taking off with speed,
To the place where Clotild had fleed.

Clotild was hiding in a group of trees in view of all,
"Clotild, Julie's voice did call,
Don't make this harder than it needs to be,
Julie ran into the area as the threat she didn't see,
Running at Julie blind with rage a knife she drew,
Yet as the knife was ****** in Julie it didn't go to.

For right as it came it was Rose who took the blow,
And slowly to the ground she did go,
Dropping the knife Clotild ran,
As she noticed the failure of her plan,
"Rose, Julie said as she sank into her arms weakly,
Her breath came rather futility.

Rose weakly noticed all the girls had gathered around,
They watched shocked and no one made a sound,
Julie asked her voice sad "Why did you jump in front of me?"
Rose smiling said, Julie you taught us all what we should be,
Wincing she said, I didn't want my friend to die,
So futile though it appeared at the time, I knew I had to try.

Rose had tears in her eyes,You gave more than I ever dream of,
Julie cried as Rose went to be with the ones she loved,
After everything Rose had been through,
Julie felt peace for she knew
At last her wish came true,
At once Clotild Julie went to pursue.  

But Julie didn't have to go long,
Seeing Clotild's hands tied Julie's eyes were drawn,
For next her a boy stood tall,
Seeing Julie a serious look did fall,
The money taken to their dad they returned,
Julie then to her dad she turned.

Do I know you? Her dad asked looking at her hard,
Suddenly appearing on guard,
"Dad, It's me Julie, she said as her voice cracked,
"Julie, is it really you? Her dad said as to react,
Why are you here? And why are these girls with you?
So introducing the girls, Julie explained what they'd been through.

For a while, Joe hung his head in shame,
Your mother's dead? As if he was to blame,
"It's not your fault!"Julie said with conviction,
"Yes it is, he said looking stricken,
I was a cop and I promised our plan wouldn't change,
For a time it worked until...as he said this he aged.

What? Julie said wanting to understand,
Joe didn't meet her eyes, my job kinda took command,
I missed our anniversary and your birthday,
After a time your mother said she couldn't stay,
That was the last I'd heard from her unfortunately,
For years you girls were all I wanted to see.

"Dad,  we can be a family again,
Linda said jumping in hoping strength she'd lend,
Joe looked up with a sad look in his eyes,
But why would Clotild blame us for your mother's demise?
Julie said, She's broken and just looking for someone to blame,
I'm sad to say, she is not at all happy we came.

Joe looked at his girls and said, you truly wish to live with me?
Wondering where the reasoning could be,
Yes, said Julie I promised these girls a chance to restart,
I told them with us they'd always be a part,
Then yes, you can come and live with me here,
Hearing the girls did cheer.

Turning to the boy Julie smiled back,
You like me, she said as if it were fact,
What makes you think that? the boy asked in a mocking tone,
Looking up Julie noticed a smile had shown,
So why then did you come to our aid?
Because to the those girls survival a huge part you played.

So who are you? Julie asked then,
A tone of curiosity she did send,
My name is john if you really wish to know,
And as of now I don't intend to ever go,
Leading John into her home
A happy ending the girls at last had known.

Until we meet again  -
I have 2 words and they're The End
This is the first epic poem I've ever written. It's based on a story I wrote as a kid.

— The End —