Pretty pink lace against 

perfectly pugnacious leather

Clashing yet kind

Courteous yet crestfallen

Beaded necklaces and playing

reckless is replaced with locked 

doors and picking at her pores

At this point I am sure;

the love that was shared is 

no longer there.

The lace ribbon wrapped perfectly around

her high-ponytail. Volleyballs and missed 

phone calls from Papa fill the trunk. 

As she approaches her game she

remembers the songs we sung in 

that same trunk

The cold leather sticking to sweaty skin

She wears it in the summer still to

make sure no one is let in

There is no cup left to fill and

still the will to live, it dims and

blows away with the wind but

This is for my sister

who still has so much time

So much love she has yet

to find, so much potential

to thrive and make up her mind

One day I want to show her that I…

love her.

More than she will ever know

Anyone who is willing to listen

will hear about her triumphs

I write this in hopes she finds her bliss

in the little things in this life

She will change, but my love remains.