my sister thinks I’m a freak-
since childhood
her coldness has wafted about
hung in the air
stench blank and distant stare
steeled defiance
like the sharp pointed tip of a knife
her judging disapproval
stabs at the walls with a loud
screeching silence
fool-hearted and on the brink
of some kind of
manufactured insanity
spewing and churning out
a patented righteousness
a seal that blights my world
hoping to unfurl
that freakiness
she finds so disarming
she leaves me wondering…
after all these years, how did we relate?
speechless words
grating gratuities
our bloodlines deflated
flattened in fact
yearning for some
elusive return
of a closeness
we never had
never shared
never spoken
yet,
always wanted.
©Jay Mora-Shihadeh
(updated and revised 6/16/21)
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