Lauren 01/15

Stop Lying,
agreeing with a paradigm
that shifted like the sands
and settled at the bottom
of the hourglass.
We are too old for this,
this constant acceptance
of soul filled angst
when screaming
is truly the best medicine
or an exhale.
I know you're right.
All the books we've read
have combined
into 43 years of paragraphs,
edited again and again
until our stories
reflect even more.
Who cares,
who invests innerg
more than we do with each other,
truly sweeping away
foolishness
 like dust around my porch
or snow on your stoop,
b/c distance doesn't determine
how much of a sister
I can be
or you are willing,
as long as the phone rings.
We celebrate each other,
beyond shared
holiday birthdays
becoming a mirror
of crisis and triumph
so that looking at you
is looking at me.
Our growth is tied,
weighted and waiting,
wondering which of us
will,
won't,
or whatever first.
It's funny how
our parents consented to more
than finding morals
in heartbreak,
justifying almost love
through 2 little girls
born 6 months and 2 days apart;
this wasn't our agreement
or maybe it was.
Maybe we chose,
selecting again,
to manifest even greater change
because lies
are the greatest trap
and we are tired,
Religiousity regulates the rules,
the constructs of supposed belief,
 relying on whoever's reality is relative.
Thank you for keeping it real,
rushing me
to run away from anything
that ruins,
even if I am writhing in pain.
I'd rather be
than look back with regret,
living without fulling loving,
choosing fear over engagement,
wrecklessly revolving
around someone else's
merry-go-round.
Ain't nobody got time for that.
These are our agreements,
our commitments
to each other,
every January and July,
to live a step further
into our dreams,
raise our children beyond tradition,
and walk more boldly into middle age.
My gift is your presence.
Your presence is my gift.