Sister

A cage for three
room for two
one had died
to free herself

Spoon for one
she feeds her slave 
the one that weeps
and begs for her warmth

She watched us all
with satisfaction in her eyes 
I was the one 
that nourished her soul
with tears in my eyes 
and blood on my knees

She neglected the other
constantly feeding me 
she glanced at me 
"I love you" she said 

I peered at her 
with anger in my eyes
we call her sister
but she locked us up

I shattered her pride
and broke her heart
she got upset
she let me starve

She called the other
and gave her food
i cried for mine
she looked away

On my judgement day
with my last breath
i called out "sister"
she smirked at me

I called her again
she took her hand
and plunged it in my back
I smiled at her 

Finally,
I was free from 'sister' too











This is my first poem with first person pronoun,  mixed up tenses, and a few punctuation. This is because my friend, which I used to refer to as 'sister', hurt me in everyway possible. I didn't know I was trapped until one day I stood up to her and gained my freedom, but in doing so it paralyzed me. I was angry at her, but now i just feel sorry for her.

Copyright © Clara Alao | Year Posted 2020

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