Rebel 60 Poetry

I no longer remember what you looked like,

dementor cloak and all as you snuck around my room

stealing every precious thing from me--

No, wait.

Not my room.

Our room.

My sister and i, my sister and i, my sister

And i.

I no longer remember what your name was

because every man after you

was the same.

All different,

but all able to steal the warmth from the room

and make me feel


No, wait.

Not me.

Me and my sister, me and my sister, me and

my sister.

I often asked myself why you were released from azkaban.

Why Dumbledore would allow you to roam free

around the muggle land,

stealing soul after soul.

I will always remember the way she cried.

The tears falling, a hurricane erupting from her silent sobs,

My sister and i, me and my sister

frightened and blaming


I am glad, now, that I slept by that window.

I only wish I had known what

other precious things you were taking not only from me

but from her, my sister.

We do not talk of it

I do not know which boogey man haunts her room at night.

I am glad to see her smile

but all I want is to cry.

I remember nothing of you; not your name, not the year, not the day, not the reason I let it happen more than once.

I do, however, remember your shout

as I yanked open the blinds.

Scolding me for revealing your horns and tail

“Don’t do that!”

And you ran.

And I remember your bare ass naked outline running to the hallway.

My boyfriend asks why I don’t wear nightgowns.

And I say because snakes are liable to climb up

and then i’d have to not remember

all over again.

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