My sisters and I grew up in the same state

The same town

The same house

But we had very different childhoods

 

We had the same brother

But he was 1 year older than me

10 years older than them

And liked a bit of fight with his afternoon delight

 

We had the same mother

But she raised me from birth

And I stayed home to raise them

For nearly a decade

 

We had the same father

Except he was my step-father

So when he got his own kids

Just call my Cinderella

 

When I turned 16

My mother bought me a car

So that I could drive “the girls”

Wherever they needed to go

 

When they turned 16

She bought them cars

So they could drive

For freedom’s sake

 

It used to be

Whenever my sisters and I

Spoke of our childhood

I couldn’t understand the disconnect

 

How I could feel such disdain

For the home that they loved

The brother they grieved

The parents they’d die for

 

And then I remember

 

My sisters and I grew up in the same state

The same town

The same house

But we had very different childhoods