The big sister

I am Cathy, the big sister, the girl who keeps all the naughty babies in line.

They took my childhood when Michael was born.

They ripped it off me like a band aid.

Did it quick.

Left a mark.

But it was gone.

The eldest and responsible. There are three parents in our family.

Mother, Father and me, but only when it suits them.

No-man's land, my country, I’m alone.

I crossed back when they weren’t looking, survival.

I told Mike I was a double agent, gave him stolen biscuits to prove it.

He swore he’d never tell.

No sister ever loved a brother more than I love Mike.

Judy came too soon and three’s a crowd,

She feels that although I hold her tight.

Then came the not twins, there were so many, they are one to me.

She crowded our house with offspring,

She is fat.

No, pregnant for ten years, a lifetime to me.

No room for me except as their keeper.

I watch them, hide their sins, take the blame, make excuses.

No one sees me.

He drinks, she’s compliant, I defend.

I make it worse, I make it better, I cover it like warm water, levelling, soothing.

No sharp edges ever.

My life for theirs and sometimes even for hers.

I am a shield.

No one protects me.

Under siege inside and out, the world is loud, hard, bright, sharp.

Soldiers ignore the pain.

No sleep, one eye open, an ear to the ground.

In case the worst happens.

I know the worst, short, sharp, snap.

Him, her, gone, I, powerless to defend.

Not the true worst.

True worsts tail is long.

It ticks with every sacrifice.

It tocks for every injustice.

The reckoning waits.

Rivers flow and rocks are smoothed.

Time heals all wounds.

Platitudes.

True worst doesn’t believe in them.

Neither do I.

I am Cathy, angular, angry, wounded, imprinted.

Powerless against injustice, sacrificing, still.

Still ticking.