Letters

Every time I tell myself
It won't bother me anymore,
I'm over that,
I get another one.
A "Why can't you do better?" letter.
"Your sister has done blah, blah, blah..."
You know what?
We're not identical twins
Thank God.

You always talk to me
As to a child of three.
You write the same way.
I'm still a child
Who's forgotten to say "Thank you"
Or to keep in touch.
I should be doing such and such.
Your sister did, your brothers, too.
Well guess what?
I haven't
And I'm not.

You want to run my life.
I run , instead.
I run.
You ruin.
Sounds like the latin
We had to recite in school.
Amo, amas, amat.
That is the lie.
I am not loved.