Girls will be girls, they say
They’re practically sisters, they said
But when comparing stories, 
no one had a “sister” like mine
The painful caresses of her sinister hands 
Raped my innocence, 
Smeared blood on clean dresses
Emptied the soul that used to be mine
The kaleidoscopes colors shifted their focus 
While jump rope chains tightened her hold, 
I closed my eyes to hide in plain sight
Letting unthinkable horrors seek to the surface 
And though the hair grew back,
The scars smoothed over,
And the bruises healed,
Her demonic memories still parade savagely inside 
Plastered on smiles and rehearsed giggles
That's how I survive,
Because skepticism follows the faint whispers
Of the exaggerated words,
Me Too.
Amanda Nicole Peña is a current senior at UTRGV majoring in English with a concentration on teaching for grades 7-12 and a minor in psychology. She finds creative writing and poetry as her outlets to express herself on controversial topics that affect her life.
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