Sorry Not Sorry

I watched you sleep, your face so serene, angels turn pale. You were tiny— I was afraid I might hold too tight and break you, or too loose and let you fall. Looking back on how things were, I regret some of what I said or did— but only a little. I’ve made it my life’s mission to protect whatever innocence you have left, even if it means annoying you beyond reason. You’ve probably wished to gut me for barging into your room blaring my songs while you slept, or for turning the light off when you need it, on when it should clearly be off, and for countless other crimes I’ll deny if asked. Still, I’m glad you’re my little sister— the one I’ll keep oppressing for the rest of my finite lifetime.