Fight Me

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When I fight with my sister, my throat clogs up and my eyes prick with tears and I want to throw up. 

My stomach twists with discomfort and I want to run away. 

So I spit out verbal poison and do just that.

I run away.

Because as long as I still see her, I run the risk of crying.

Because as long as I still see her, I remember how helpless I felt when she told me "it's just a phase."

Because as long as I still see her, I feel the burn of the truth in her words.

Because as long as I still see her, I still look for the girl who promised me it was us against the world.

Because as long as I still see her, I want to slap her and tell her how I really feel.

Because as long as I still see her, I hope.

I hope that my sister will be my sister again.

I hope that this time, she'll be the one to apologize.

I hope that she'll want to talk to me again.

I hope that she'll remember our promise of us against the world.

I hope that I won't hate her again.

Because as we all know,

that's impossible. 

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