I am not her

    Golden to red brown. City
to country. Heels to flats.
Makeup to natural. Pale to freckles.

     Angry to serene. Sharp to gentle.
Black to rainbow. Emerald, brown to
blue, gray.

    Sleeping to wide awake. 36 to 37.

    A soft sigh. I am surpassing.
Breathing, living. Silent I am when
tears fall.

    Take my walk. Breathe in
because I really don't know how
to respond to someone saying I
don't understand a great, close loss.

    Really? Seriously? You have
no idea where I have come from,
who I am. For certain I do not
show everything, display all for world
to give pity party.

     Ah then to be stabbed in back
by the one person I hold dear only
because I am not her, my sister.

    Yes difference. Not golden,
not sharp. Not emerald brown. Just
me.

    Still not proving who I am to those
who are blind, ignorant that I cannot and
never will be her nor like her.