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