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Rated: 13+ · Poetry · Dark · #1973636
I often wonder what she feels like, having a depressed sister. Three poems.
I.

My sister has an eating disorder,

When my parents told me I was in shock.

"Does your sister have an eating disorder?"

People ask with either concern or mock.

My sister has an eating disorder,

She grows tinier every day.

My sister and I were always so close,

And yet she wouldn't say.

I thought that I could trust my sister,

But apparently I can't.

People try to cheer up my sister,

But I myself, I shan't.

My sister has neither right nor reason,

To be as troubled as she is.

They say she shouldn't have lied about it,

Still it's the sister she was that I miss.

My sister has an eating disorder,

I try to be as understanding as I can manage.

I try to love and support my sister,

Even though it's her who did the damage.



II.

My sister is depressed,

She cries and cries all day.

When I ask my sister how she's doing, though,

She claims to be okay.

My sister's very lucky, you know;

Our parents favoured her all along.

My sister says she hates herself,

But that's just terribly wrong.

My sister is blessed not cursed!

People often prefer her to me.

If my sister really is that terrible,

Then what am I supposed to be?

I'm angry with my sister,

There is no reason for her depression.

My sister and I used to be very close,

Until the day of her confession.



III.

My sister is a cutter,

Her shirts are all long-sleeved.

My sister is a cutter,

For a while she had us all deceived.

My sister harms herself,

And I wish I didn't know.

When my sister talks about her issue,

I don't listen, I just go.

It pains me to think my sister hurts herself,

And I don't want to feel the pain.

My sister's cutting has gotten worse,

On her long sleeves I notice bloody stains.

Sometimes I blame myself for my sister's problem,

Because I was the one who cut first.

I stopped long ago, my sister continues,

To think I'm the cause is the worst.

I don't think my sister ought to hide her scars,

They're nothing to be ashamed of.

I give all the love I can offer,

But when she asks I just shrug and cough.

Once we talked about my sister's cutting,

It was Christmas Eve and she was crying.

My sister said she was suicidal,

"Merry fucking Christmas to me." I thought, sighing.





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