When I was little,
You brushed my hair,
Every strand,
The brush running through it,
It hurt like hell,
So is it weird that,
I miss that?

When I was young,
You read me stories,
Fairy tales,
I’d fall asleep,
And never remember the end,
So is it strange that,
I miss that?

When I was small,
I sat on your lap,
Safe and secure,
I squirmed to run and play,
And you had to let me down,
So is it odd that,
I miss that?

But that was then,
And this is now,
Because now,
I can brush my own hair,
And read my own stories,
And sit still on my own,
So why is it,
It was meaningless then,
I miss that,
That feeling of security,
Safe in knowing,
You were there.

When we were we,
And it was us,
Against the world,
You were there,
And now,
You’re still here,
But so are they,
Your new family,
And even though,
My new sister loves me,
And your boyfriend is nice,
Am I really a part of that?

You’re my family,
You.
Because to me,
It was us,
Just us,
Against the world,
But,
Now you have them,
And where does that leave me?

It’s just me.

Me.

Against the world.