Release

Broken Veins

Something's always missing...

~~~

I always called you my sister,

considered you family,

waited for the day that you'd call, patiently,

wanted to be with you, maybe you'd take me to the park,

swing my 5 year old self round and round.

Maybe you'd stay a few days with us, rather than at your mom's,

spend time with me, tell me how much you loved me,

how much you cared, how much you wanted to be here.

All I got was a fucking phone call, 10 years later.

"I don't want to associate with you,

I don't want to speak to you or your 'new' family,

leave me out of your life," you told my father.

You were frustrated, I knew that.

You had a rough life, living with divorced parents,

your father being chased, almost deported that second,

your mother was white trash, you didn't come from much,

and I understood that, I gave that to you.

What I didn't give was the hatred you built up for me,

that dislike of my family, you hated them and me,

you thought that I was worthless, you told me to my face once,

I knew you were different, I thought you could be mine: my sister.

But times are different, that's not the case,

you ran off to become a drunk, wore a new face,

DUI's on your birthday, is that the way to live?

I didn't want it to be this way, but clearly, you did.

We're clearly sisters genetically,

since alcohol runs in our veins,

I prefer whiskey and coke, I don't know about you,

we just try to hide the pain,

the liquor helps us forget moments,

until sobriety brings it back again.

If that's how you choose to be, so be it, that's fine,

I'm sure you'll take all this with some rum or some wine,

So maybe one day I won't care, maybe one day, you'll have regret,

maybe one day you'll remember, maybe one day, I'll forget.