Blood Related

She is my sister,

but with a crimson filter, and metallic texture.

A family member,

separated by a different shade on our palette.

Our colours

are two shades, too different.

She's moonshine soaked up on broken lights

with a hint of Jager.

I'm sunlight reflecting on polluted water.

We're similarly opposite.

Yellow and white don't mix to make gold,

but still she's priceless.

We lack sepia but red and brown - blood...

We bleed the same problems;



The only iron in our veins

is words stained with humility.

We sketched into conversations, comfortable.

Drawing on assistance and

painting pictures in situations we'd call difficult.

She's been sipping alcohol

the same way I'd been drunk off of love.

Addiction became the muse of our small talk.

A trail of footsteps traces back memories

of regret, carving pathways of decisions

that branched into roads not taken.


My shoulders have absorbed more of her tears

than umbrellas, soaked under the rain.

I hold the burden when her fake smiles thunder.

I can hear the word no try to climb out

of her chest, but a subtle yes changes her

like how autumn leaves get darker,

and her innocence is tarnished.

I've seen her change from green to yellow,

and yellow to red. Her roots have drank

too much jealousy and anger

for her branches to withstand.

I wonder when her leaves will fall,

and whether I’ll be with her

before her pain withers.