In a dim lit food court of a destitute mall,
Sat two blue-eyed wildflowers.
You a Golden Jerusalem,
With your gilded yellow hair,
Cascading around your daisy-like cheeks.
And I a Noble Columbine,
Whose hair morphed like a kaleidoscope,
With each passing mood of the week.
Cousins by blood, sisters by choice.
Until you opened your mouth and I heard the sound of my aunt’s voice.
We were supposed to be there for one another,
But you ghosted me over last summer.
Because of lies told to you by your mother.
How could you believe her over me?
Does my firsthand testimony not mean anything?
I think it’s funny how life unfolds,
Thirteen years ago, you were the first person I told,
Suddenly, everyone knew in your household.
I regret trusting you now that we’re older and you’re cold.
Black Sheep is blasting on the stereo.
The lyrics echo through my head,
“Now that the truth is just a rule you can bend,
You crack the whip, shapeshift, and trick the past again.”
Reminiscent of what she did to my narrative,
You understanding this next line is imperative.
I was the victim in this scenario.
You and she don’t get to decide how this is gunna go.
Your mother made me the monster of your memories,
She attacked and you refused to stand by me.
Sometimes I wish we could go back to seventeen,
When things were easier, and we were both carefree.
Talking about the rapture as a form of escapism,
Longing to get away from our family’s schism.
Making wise cracks about a future apocalypse,
Zombies, Aliens, or would it be Politics?
The sounds of howling laughter echoing down the halls,
Pondering what spirit could be planning to unleash on us all.
As the song says,
“Our common goal was waiting for the world to end.”


#IMissUs
#Sisters
#Unfortunate

© RoseLevesque