my sister went home
one day from school.
i never noticed that
her once very ivory
s k i n
became lackluster
as a the plaguing
g h o s t ;
and how her honey
v o i c e
settled with a kind
of bad and certain
b r i t t l e .
s h e i s n ' t m y
s i s t e r . . .
she was someone
else, transfigured
into an appalling
i l l u s i o n
of pretentious and
flawed epitome of
l o v e ,
for her love is very
fickle and puerile, a
c h i l d
of innocence and
deceitful faith, all
for a candy-infused
k i s s
and an intoxicated,
arousing slither of
t o u c h .
s h e i s n ' t m y
s i s t e r . . .
she was a victim of a
vile, nasty pestilence
teenagers fancy to cry
as complete and utter
u n c o n d i t i o n a l .
i b e c a m e v e r y
a f r a i d . . .
YOU ARE READING
Twenty
Poetry❝ Blow out all the candles, you're too old to be so shy. ❞ © nate k. 2014
