You were meant to be my mentor,
instead you’re just a ghost.

I remind them so much of you.
After all, we share a name;
your first became my middle.
And we both…
have a gift for writing,
are the eldest sister,
love the same style of jewlery,
wanted to become child psychologists,
feel attraction for women as well as men,
and rescued gray cats (who have eerily
similar nicknames: bitty bit and bitsy).

I also seem to have your worst qualities: 
the dramatic streak,
the need to seek attention through pity, 
and the deepset empathy that forces us to
absorb the hurt from those around us. 

Most of these similarities were pointed out
to me by my mother with a mixture of 
and pain
in her eyes. 

I was meant to be your student,
instead I’m just your ghost.