you don't have my sister's shade.
yours is a color of an ugly stain
on my sweater
on my sheets.
on my body.
the color of something that makes you fearful
like the vomit from the alcohol you consume.
i'm enveloped in it, and i no longer feel safe.
if this is truly all you had to give,
it will never be enough.
i'm cornered once again,
prying at the front gate,
begging the latch to release,
praying to be let go.
