The one I love the most on Earth;
(except mom, just accept that I love her a little more,
you always had a thing for dad and I’m okay with that)
I know you would prefer if I didn’t put my soul and our story out here like I do
this is the only way I know how to live.
I know you would prefer if I took my make up off every night
and used tonic after face wash and before moisturizer like you do
sometimes I just don’t know how I ever managed to put it on in the first place.
I know you would prefer if I spent my money on
hairdressers instead of bars
and cute dresses instead of cigars
we both know they taste like… time wasted.
I would love it if you stopped spending hours on Pinterest
looking at tumblr-material-girl-photos
with inspirational quotes,
and actually be one of them,
and do what the quote says,
because everyone except you can see that you can.
I’m sorry for the scar on your face
that’s there because I broke the glass on my door in our first house
out of rage.
I’m sorry for telling that cute smart guy to change tables
if he didn’t like my cigarette smoke all those years ago.
I’m sorry that I encouraged you to break off all of your relationships
whenever there was a tiny problem
because I just can’t accept the fact that it’s okay for anyone to hurt you
even a little bit.
I know you want me to be just like you.
That wouldn’t be me.
I know you want me to come live with you and mom forever
or at least talk to you on the phone three or four times a day, ideally for an hour.
I know you feel like I don’t tell you much about my life here
When I do, you don’t like what you hear.
And when you tell me you don’t feel good.
I know you think that I don’t care
I care too much to keep listening and not being able to change it.
I care too much to live with you and see you not living the life I believe that could make you feel good.
Sometimes I wish we were the same person.
And maybe if you didn’t insist that they made you a sister, we would be.
Maybe I really am your copy.
Maybe you did split into two and everything with me.
But sister, you and I both know that we are –
two pigeons from the same pigeons,
one of us wants to fly, but loves the nest;
one of us loves the nest, but has to fly.
We are two songs from the same band
like I Want to Break Free and Bohemian Rhapsody.
We are two characters of the same author.
Two lines from this poem.
Two hearts beating for each other.
But always together.
Nazli is a writer and dreamer based in Berlin. It’s very likely that you will run into her while she is writing in the train or reading at Spoken Word events around Rathaus Neukölln. If you live in a city far far away, you can read more of her stuff at rhnk.tumblr.com