Untitled #10

Their cherished offspring arrives a week early
Babbling in jagged tongues
About all the enchanting messes
I missed out on

The rest lean over the table
Shoulders eager to hear more glossed lies
On what they feel vicariously hollow without

My eye rolling continues the whole way upstairs
Her claiming my bedroom and rooftop space
Calling it seniority

I am soon across the hallway
Ignoring their tender arguments through the ancient heating vents
There are infinite possibilities for the upcoming holiday
Until her centered resume receives another check mark

I try to focus on comprehending the sentences
Stuck inside
Ears plugged
The rain far from relenting
In-between load times, I hear the propeller in her throat
Spin in a counterclockwise motion

Then the invasion of halter tops
Red, white ad blue printed icons
Wanderers ignoring the pile of shoes from leftover from the early arrivals
They bring with them plastic bags and mirrors
Half-fogged from pierced noses

I sit,
Arms cross
Occasionally flirting
While claiming that all their IVY League futures
Are monetarily predetermined
Sis takes my opinions as a threat

Around four A.M. the blame is placed
In-between my dirty halo and head
The shaking knees and convulsions on the bathroom floor
Are my next ticket to more deeply rooted grudges
Soon, I will be the book definition of a hot potato

-C.W.