Dear Sister:
You are Dr. Jekyll.
You are Mr. Hyde.
Your own ambitions,
wants, and needs
have made you into
a terrifying tower of
acheivement and self-righteousness.
You can be playful and fun one moment
and then you are distorted
twisted and bent into a monster.
I cower under your
tsunami of stone glares.
I shrink under your
cruel and well-intentioned words.
My will is hammered into
shapes of your preference.
If you grow to be
old and successful, Dr. Jekyll,
then i want to
die tragically young, Mr. Hyde.
That is how much I don't want to be you.
Maybe I am strong
somewhere underneath my
sorry layers of hurt
but as long as
you shower me with hail and poison,
I will never know.
With love from,
Your sister.