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A Poem To My Sister

Autumn was my rock this summer and this poem is totally dedicated to her and her strength.

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A Poem To My Sister
Jennifer Arsenault

Ethereal: Extremely delicate and light in a way that seems too perfect for this world.


When my sister was in kindergarten, we had matching plastic butterflies hanging in our doorways.

During nap time, she used to whisper my name,

Break off a wing,

And pop it in her mouth like candy.

I would watch her in horror and pray to a God that

Her tiny throat didn't close around it's jagged edges

And when she swallowed and gave me a smile

My stomach acid would recede like the tide being called home by the moon.


When she was in second grade,

Mom and Dad took us shopping.

We were giggling in the back seat because we were going to Ashley's Furniture,

And that's my name,

But that day dad's breath smelled like profanity and prescriptions and

I would have drowned in her tear ducts trying to hold back the flood gates

If it meant he hadn't ruined her day.


Yesterday she called me from 878 miles away

And I could hear the hurt in her exhale

And before she spoke I shook with guilt because for the first time

I wasn't there for her when she needed me


She said Mom was flying out for a few days and

Dad was out of his meds again

And how was she supposed to do this alone

And I wanted to tell her that she wasn't alone!

And that with me as her big sister, she'd never be alone

But the distance wrestled the thought from my vocal chords

And all I could do was listen to her cry


There's so much in this world that I want her to do

There's so much more that she's going to see

And she has to know that the light she emits

Kept me going on my darkest days.

She has to know that

When I feel low, I write about her to keep her near.

When I get high, I pull out that old polaroid from 2002

The one where the sun is her smile and tulips sprout from her tongue

And I don't feel so far away.


Most days I hate the taste of knowing I have a psychiatric disorder

And that she was forced to grow up, witness to it.

Other days, I count my blessings that she stood by my side.

I hope she looks in the mirror and sees what I do,

Because she is beautiful, she is wonderful, she is ethereal.

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This article has not been reviewed by Odyssey HQ and solely reflects the ideas and opinions of the creator.
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