Category : Poems

Sub Category : N/A

I spoke with my dear sister on the phone yesterday morning,
I had asked her what she had been up to...
She said:
"Nothing much,
Just cleaning my room."
I asked her how she was feeling,
She hasn't been acting like her normal self,
Whatever that was anymore, the girl changed like seasons.
But she said "There's nothing new."
I could hear a crack in her voice so I just spoke what came to mind.
I knew my sister wasn't happy,
The hesistation in her voice didn't lie.

I pitched in my own opinion,
I told her she needed to get out of that place..
Even if it was the last thing she were to ever do,
I said:
"Theres a better life waiting for you."
But of course she would try to change the subject and move onto something else...
I told her she needed to wake the hell up,
And try to seek some help.
It never seemed to matter how much I would try to advise my sister that she needed to lay off of the drugs,
But of course my two cents worth of opinion would just never be enough.

I swear I wanted to slap my sister,
And wake her the Hell up...
That guy she was seeing had just beaten her up pretty rough.
I told her:

"You're just like mom,
A codependent drug addict who will end up dead before seeing the light of day..."

She felt like she needed to have a man around just to keep her safe.

Daddy issues,
I dont know...
They never affected me.
I finished school,
I graduated with honors and there she dropped out when she was only fifteen.
And of course that whore we called our mother never cared.
I tried so hard to rub off on my sister,
Just to show her the correct way...
But left and right she was fucking it all up,
It never seemed to matter what I would do or say.

And I said:
 "You can't help someone who isn't even willing to help their own selves...
Honest to God I have fucking tried but you always push me away.
One day you'll probably overdose,
I'll stand over your grave and then I'll say I told you so!"

That was the last words I spoke to my sister before she started crying and hung up the phone.

I felt more in control of my own life after that talk,
I figured my advice was wise and maybe one day when he had beaten her nearly close to dead,
Those words would mean something to her,
One way or another.
I knew I was right.
One day...
I had hoped my sister would come clean, break free from the chains of addiction and tell me so.

I received a call yesterday afternoon when I was running some errands,
At 3pm my sister was pronounced dead.
She had downed a bottle of vodka and put a bullet into her head.

She had a song on repeat,
A song I knew very well.
And on her nightstand there lay a note she had written before she took her life so lost in a dark,
Cold place.

It said:
" You told me so."

I never imagined my sister would take something that I could say straight from the heart and out of concern for her well being so wrong,
I swear my intentions were well...
But in the end only I would know that.
I never figured she would have been the one to take her own life.

Somehow I felt like it was my fault,
Telling her how to do it right.

It wasn't what I said now,
I see it was how I said it.
I guess in my heart I just never understood my sister's warped opinion.

I never got to know her like that,
I just always figured she was weak and naïve.
Growing up in that hellhole we labeled as being our house,
It might as well been two opposite sides of the planet.

She was already down when I kicked her,
And she was long dead inside before they even found her.
She lived her life like a zombie day in and day out...
Maybe all she needed were some positive words to come back around from me.

I realize I didn't say anything that she hasn't heard before,
If it wasn't from me it was probably someone else and she finally decided that her half was half the lose.

She had people in her life who cared...
She just didn't look at it that way, she felt judged.
She never asked for help,
She lived her last days lost in denial.

If I could do things over again...
I would have told her she was beautiful more often,
Instead of reminding her that she was a nasty mess.
I would tell her she was strong,
And capable of overcomong those obsticals and that she was capable of so much more...
I would have lifted her up from that darkened place more often the right way, in a way she could understand.
I would have actually been there to dry her tears instead of telling her she needs to change.

I would have told her so,
And she would still be here with me today.