Closure

Dear little sister,

I am sorry.

She talked about how she hated

Being the scapegoat

While she simultaneously

Made you her scapegoat.

You were the one who listened,

Even though she did not listen

To you. You asked her to stop-

At the top of your lungs,

And now you silently muffle your whimpers

Into the pink, flower-shaped pillow she gave you on your birthday,

Under the dangling dresses and blouses.

I am sorry.

She cornered you

into that bright yellow room

That reminded you of sun rays and the speckled night sky.

As her taunts pounded through the locked door,

her anger

Painted the walls black and blue.

Even though you say you’re past it,

I know you still remember her grabbing your cheeks,

telling you that you’re worthless.

And the slap that paralyzed you with silence.

And the knife you saw behind you as you sprinted up

The stairs into your room.

Despite it being four years ago,

You still seek me.

I am here now

And I am sorry.

Sincerely,

Closure