She was my best friend from the moment I existed.
I was Thing One and she was Thing Two,
With a year and nine months of experience,
Her coffee-stained eyes could pinpoint a rainbow,
Even in my tiny world of hazel.
Her hair was as dark as the night,
Yet mine with a glare of the sun, 
Could always brighten her day. 
I was Miss Sweetheart and she was Little Miss Lip.
We hummed along to “Beauty School Drop-Out”,
With our polished pig tails and silky, pink jackets.
We were a mirror image of our mothers.
We were inseparable.
But as the days turned to weeks,
To months,
To years,
She traded her tap shoes for cleats,
And I simply watched her sprint away.