When you see me in pictures, do you explain me away?
Do your children, your grandchildren, ask who I am?
Do you feel the loss of me?
I was your sister—
For less than half the years than these now, when
I am a stranger
I was only a child.
If you were sent away, it was not by me.
I didn’t understand.
When I lost my world, my rock,
I lost so much more—I lost you.
You should have been there
Found a way.
I needed you.
I was your sister.
Do you feel the loss of me like I’ve felt the loss of you?
Are there fountains of molten rock burning your chest,
Eruptions of pain and anger escaping in bursts
Questions you can’t answer?
Do you feel the loss of me at all?