Margaret and Me

I yell in frustration
Why can’t Margaret understand she’s gone too far?
I’m unable to take it anymore
I can’t go through life as “baber.”
Whenever I want to interact
I have a sensation as thought I am talking to a wall
She receives everything but absorbs nothing

I try to have a conversation with her
About how I am annoyed with her name-calling
But she stares back, blank and glassy-eyed
Margaret is a goldfish,
A slimy, slithering, slinking sea creature
Gurgling in an oblivious manner

Margaret and I yearn to dance professionally
As we practice every day
We jump, leap, twirl, and point(e)
As the music booms from the speakers
Together we sew out point shoes,
Margaret’s instruction warm and comforting
Her gaze on the needle as it weaves in and out
We endure the pain, work through the blisters
Ice our blood-red toes and tendons

But now Margaret frightens me
As she says Google Earth is her solution to life
How she’ll make sure we live next door to each other


as adults
How my kids will go to her school
I retaliate, warning that I am very interested in

restraining orders
I say I will have an unlisted phone number and

change my name

I remind her of many things
How Mike Matheny is NOT the goalie for the Rams
And how the Cardinals are 2011 World Series

Champions
Margaret reminds me how to be noticed
Perfecting awkward silence noises
And mentioning bungee jumping during celebrity

conversations

Margaret is Peter Pan, little kids-ish and imaginative
I am Wendy, past my primes as a 5 year-old
I want us to be close when we’re adults
And I want her to grow up
She may contact me more frequently than necessary
Hopefully, I can handle that

In life you don’t get everything
You get what was given to you
I got a very creepy sister, but I love her
And as this door of our childhood is swinging shut,

another is opening
Light streaming through, the future of which I dream

of