i’m worried about her
she hasn’t slept in days,
when she does,
she’s screaming about graveyards in her sleep.
when she starts talking, it’s like looking in a mirror.
i tell her;
shush child don’t grow up into me,
i’m nothing but a board of caution.
we share cigarettes,
our legs dangling twenty seven stories high;
i’m trying to tell her about me,
i’m trying to scare her.
She’s drinking like the world ended last week,
i’m worried like i’m disposing a bomb;
but my dress is stitched with grenades,
so I’m running away from her.
little sister, wake up;
burn my clothes and wash over my footprints.
she keeps tightening her grip on the frills of my dress,
i’m worried about her.