Memories of my Brother

I decided I would challenge myself to write a poem for my brother every day this month and this is the result. It is rough and rugged and it is a mere work-in-progress but I'm just writing down stuff I want to say.


5. V

There is not much wrong with being your sister

Aside the fact that
I am your sister
Am I clever?
Am I musical?
Am I polished?
Am I mature?
Am I mathematical?
Am I God's gift to physics?
Am I growing?
Am I working?
Am I cooking?
Am I polite?
Am I the foundation for your pride?
Am I Einstein?
Am I an inspiration?
Am I a blue piece of a turquoise heart that Mum strung around her neck for six months?
I am a kite that scrambled into a tree and a paper aeroplane that slid off course and a ink pen staining my bed sheets and a pair of ballet shoes that cannot stay perfect and I am an unmade bed and an upset room and an upset mind and I am the smell of books and the sand between your toes and the sea water in your mouth and the pivot of a see-saw.
I am the child that tried to live.

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