Shayla

It's late
and I should sleep,
but when I am at home I sort of
lose
punctuality?
and
I feel sad
when the little things
are trivialized.

I refuse to dwell,
I've been on that side of the page
and it sucks my joy away.
And who am I?
When I am down,
what about my sister
and what about the hard things
she is dealing with
and what about the way she deals with
the hard things?
God help me to open my ears
and listen to her cry,
even though her lips are closed.
I cannot see it in her eyes.
But I can feel it in my soul.
She is my sister
afterall.