Two sisters—separated—but related in every way but blood,
groping in the dark, fighting monsters in tight corners, both on a mission to live despite everything,
They escaped the hurt, the country of their birth, found each other at last
they’d both been carving words in the bark of trees, with knives made sharp by the same rejection and pain
they’d walked similar paths, paved with litter and shards of glass—determination the name of their game—fuck if they were going to give up and stop trying to grab happiness by its slippery tail.
We bore the same scars, shared the same heart, fragile like a balloon which has been repeatedly pricked and deflated too many times.
We were apart for too long, so many seasons. In the depth of winters, the humidity of summers—among other things—I was missing my sister.
I wish I’d known you when I was a little girl hiding under the covers with books, when the fear and emptiness were overwhelming, when I watched happy families, trying to find out their secret, while at home I was told I didn’t deserve any kind of warmth.
I wish you’d been there when I was 18, to hold the hair away from my face when I was sick everywhere, drunk on cheap wine and too many cigarettes because of some fuckwit who’d been messing with my head.
But now I have found you, nothing could keep me away. Nothing you do, nothing you say.
I’ll be standing by your side—and, fuck if it isn’t the ultimate cliché—but yes, come rain or shine.
Because *I* who don’t let people in easily, *I* with the trust which has to be built layers by layers, I recognised my long lost sister almost as soon as I met her
I love her
Image credit: Nois7 on Instagram