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Sister

First we are sisters

By Rose RosalesPublished 2 years ago Updated about a year ago 1 min read
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Sister
Photo by Graham Powell-Wood on Unsplash

I pray that my sister will pick up the phone and say how are you doing I missed you, hello. That is not quite likely but I am able to dream. It would take a miracle and some angels it seems... For my sister to love me, for the reason to be, because she is my sister, but it is only my dream. She could never look past the fact, the fact I am a junkie, to her I am just a bum, a bum with a monkey. Can I not be judged, for the drugs I did, I am still just your sister, the one you chose to conveniently omit. The memories of, when we were little...You´ve become an enigma to me and for you me a riddle.

It really is not hard, to try to figure me out, but then you did not try, you never were in doubt...To you I´m an addict, not worthy of life, my back would be riddled with you and a knife. Once again, I overlook, all your shit you did, because I don´t care, what you think, not even a bit. Now I´m taking this chance there may not be another, I still love you Sister, and forgive you, for killing our mother.

sad poetry
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About the Creator

Rose Rosales

My life could have been less hard knocks, but would it have been boring? All the obstacles,trials, and tragedies are probably what kept me going. Every time I was knocked down, I got back up. I didn't allow them to break me.

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