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Not our Names

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Pronounce me Dead.
Pronounce her Broken.
But those are not our Names.
We are sisters,
Forever we will remain.
For I am
Dead, and she,
Broken.
Lying in a pit of
Confusion.
We strain to see the sense
Of life, of death, of everything
In

Between.
She calls me Dead,
I call her Broken,
But these are not our names.



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Enochia said...
Nov. 2, 2013 at 12:23 am
That was amusing from someone who knows you and your sister.
 
..RJ.. This work has been published in the Teen Ink monthly print magazine. replied...
Nov. 2, 2013 at 12:24 am
I will strangle you in your sleep.
 
Enochia replied...
Nov. 2, 2013 at 12:25 am
Why would you do that?
 
..RJ.. This work has been published in the Teen Ink monthly print magazine. replied...
Nov. 2, 2013 at 1:10 am
for giggles.
 
Enochia replied...
Nov. 5, 2013 at 8:33 pm
I suspected as much.
 
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