Sister

You who share my blood but not my face
And only have my thoughts intermittently
Like Venn diagrams with that space of sameness
We who sprung from the same root and tree
And flowered and bore fruit so differently
What matters is that you halve my sorrow
And I know the barbs you spit are not sprung
From hate of me
But our shared frustration that life should be:
Simpler
Happier

Our mother taught us not to say those words
Yet, I am glad to have you
Yet, I am glad to know you

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Author: redgladiola

Creative writer happily predisposed to flights of fancy. You can find my poetry and short prose at https://redgladiola.wordpress.com

2 thoughts on “Sister”

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