The Oldest
The time was never mine
I know that now.
In the backseat of your blue Escape,
strawberry stains on my teeth.
I want for little
but it is human nature to desire what we can not have.
All we have left
Is quiet moments on the way to work.
I am neither parent nor child
but a third thing
sister.
Fourteen years too old to fight back
to cry out.
Swallow your needs
Swallow your pride.
And be a good big sister
the daughter you need.
6 thoughts on "The Oldest"
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I love that image of “strawberry stains on my teeth.”
I think the poem would benefit from more of that level of specificity. Some of the other lines are quite vague. “…to desire what we cannot have” — and what is that? “too old to fight back” — against what? “…to cry out” — and say what?
I’ll keep that in mind when I’m editing!
Love the second stanza!
Tysm!
I am the oldest of four, and I’m too familiar with some of the ideas expressed in this poem (I was already planning on writing about my own experience sometime this month before reading this). Definitely felt those first two lines and the fight stanza. Well done.
Good luck to you on your journey!