to sister: a stranger, a friend

​

If I could gather all the garments, trinkets, and photographs they have of you, I would wear them just to see if I look like you. I’ve been called by your name too many times, and maybe that’s the number of times dad has wished for you to come back.

​

If I could list down the times they’ve called this room yours, then maybe you can consider visiting me in my dreams so I could ask for your permission. The room you’ve left behind has always made me feel like a guest and the least I could do is to leave some space for you. 

​

Do not worry, they have kept your pictures high enough for us to not disturb you.

​

If I could tell what it’s like to drive to your place, I would ask you how it feels like to watch people you barely know cry for you. I would listen to you as you describe the people who visit you and ask if you like the flowers they leave behind.

​

If you could pay us a visit or two – hug dad, write me a letter, or leave your sister a gift – then maybe we could sleep knowing that you are fine. We cannot rest. We can never rest.

​