My sister was always the favorite;
an image of perfection.
She walked around with her flawless
grades made out of astounding
intelligence;
something we’d never seen before.
Sleek hair and broad smile
and clothes splattered with
shades of coral, cyan and lavender
made all the boys turn to focus
on the immaculate young woman
who stood before them.
She gave our family hope
that we might have a chance
at being a family
and forget about
me.
I’m the corrupt sister
who stands five feet tall,
covered head to toe in
shades of ash and charcoal.
I stay hidden away in my room,
with music blaring so
loud that it makes my ears
throb and my bones quiver.
It cuts the connection,
leaving me with the company of
my thoughts ;
leaving me to discover
on my own
that no matter what I do,
I will never be as good as
her.