Patience does not apply
in a family lacking ease,
nor is loyalty gifted…
my sister – a fiery red
corvette fuelled by hate
would slaughter kin
lived for the fight,
gleaned energy from
sinful behaviours
despite hard-work,
tasted power in attracting
meat – a fleshy cow –
processed sweethearts
with abandonment,
hardly caring, despised
public scrutiny – her world
a miniscule burlesque show
fluttering raw flesh inviting
scavengers – appeased out of
necessity – she shopped crowds,
possessed a light that shouted:
“Open for business” – dared
not endure loneliness, desperate
to annihilate the past –
her heart, a massive-winged
avenger, pummelled by
the memories of a brother
her twin – torn from her
by a deserting father – left
dying like an unwanted pest
an agonizing plummet
into an unendurable darkness
from which she sought any
infiltration, yearning to
pierce, to relieve, the musty
hold of her ground-up reality:
no virtue in patience,
no prize in loyalty
each woman for herself
(Image: insanityismyreality.deviantart.com)
Oh how painful your sister”s life sounded. Watching must have been equally painful. Was she your twin?
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She was eleven years my senior – my mom’s first family, separated from her twin after the divorce. She was a difficult person to be around, but in light of her history, who can blame her.
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That is wonderful, and haunting at the same time.
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Thank you for saying so, Kate. I wrote it for my sister who lived a tragic and short life, although, somehow I think it might represent others.
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