Harlot

My brother came into my room late last night to talk.

He told me what I’m doing with my body is wrong, don’t I have any goddamn self-respect, why can’t I be more like our dead sister, and to apologize to god.

I was so rude to him. I yelled at him, I told him he should’ve never have come back to visit because no one in this house gave a shit about him anymore.

When he left, I cried. I cried like a child, with hiccups and a blanket.

The worst part was that he heard me and didn’t come in to comfort me like a big brother should.

But I suppose that’s unfair of me to say, I haven’t been acting like a little sister should. I deserved that, actually. That and so much more.