Monologue

Long back,  I could have never talked.

Barely gotten a word in, perhaps.

Two little girls, squabbling and yelling.

What a ruckus they made – but I listened.

I didn’t have much choice, eh?

.

Sisters in crime, backing each other up.

Building fairy tales out of barbie sets

And teaching fuzzy koalas to race cars.

Sharing secrets and sneaking snacks.

What a lovely din on a lucid day!

.

I could still sing though… 

A lullaby as they smiled in their dreams.

Mussed-up hair and hands clasped tight.

Warm in the comfort of my arms,

United in bonds of sisterhood.

.

I wish I had spoken as they grew.

Asked them to cherish the past.

School and studies, alarms at ghastly hours.

Secrets turned to worries. Snacks turned to diets.

Adulthood dawning upon them.

.

I can talk all I want now, but…

There is no one to listen, no one to talk to.

My arms have been empty far too long.

I only hope they remember me at times,

As they talk within walls far beyond.

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My room. I miss my room! And I miss it more remembering the times I spent with my sister. Wrote this as an impulsive response on behalf of my room’s walls to the prompt at dVerse Poetics – “If walls could talk…”