We have all stood on this edge
and rowed out into dangerous waters.
First I promised myself and broke it,
then I promised my sister
and then there was no going back on it.
I stood in my room, having just returned from college,
awkward and limbless like an astronaut adjusting to gravity,
and she stood in the doorway,
her brow wrinkled in confusion
and frustration and anger, yes, anger too.
For a moment I saw myself as she saw me,
not the way I always see me,
distorted and warped,
but young, with unlined skin
and opportunities she never had,
I realized suddenly she wanted to grab me and shake me,
wake me from my own self destruction.
Scream, ‘Waste’, loud enough into my ear that not
only did my brain but maybe also my heart and my soul
buried deep in my swollen muscle of my trachea would hear it.
But she didn’t.
I told her, and she sighed deep and lost and
then for a moment inside, I was the mother,
asking Why? Why?
and she was the child, shrugging.
You will be okay, she said. You will get better.
It was not a question.
This is the way it happened. This was what we were waiting for.
Afterwards there was no going back to what once was.