Big Sister

Big sister, why do you hide away locked in your room? The blinds are always closed like you’re scared of the light. You‘re always sitting in your round fluffy pink chair, eyes glued to the bright screen of your laptop, and frantically writing thoughts onto blank paper. Your hair is an untidy bundle of curls and your skin has lost its sunshine glow. You get angry or frustrated whenever I lightly tap or budge the door for a little peak. You never want to be disturbed about writing. Why big sister? Why are you hiding away in the dark? Won’t you come and play with me on the swing set? Won’t you come and play?