I seriously don’t know who I would be without her,
She is my living, breathing, beautiful other half,
We have made it so far from where we once were,
We traveled through separations and tribulations

Mostly unscathed because we stuck together,
Though teachers wouldn’t let me visit her during school,
I would sneak out to make sure she was ok
Despite breaking some silly recess rule;

I always had to make sure she was not sad
Because for some reason
She always seemed so fragile
Crying when saying goodbye to dad,
Or when trying to pick a side in the mess;

I saw her so fragile…
But she started to cry less and less,
The process slow and gradual
Because with a huge heart she was blessed;

I think I looked after her so much
Because I knew if she were to shatter
I would not only have to pick up her pieces
I knew that without her whole self, I did not matter

It is important to recognize that one is not one
But half of their other half,
The once you would choose over anyone,
And readily defend them on their behalf

I cannot say that I am just me,
That my race, class, and family
Are the most important parts of my identity,
Because all I hear in those words Are me, me, me;

No, I recognize that I am just half a soul,
Without my sister I would be a sad girl
Because I could never be whole;

I can only speak for myself
When I say that she is the glue
That keeps me together when I’m torn,
That she will stick around forever like a tattoo;

My identity cannot be defined by any intrinsic category
But by that one person that completes my developing
story

by Celeste Martinez De Luna

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