I am fourteen years old and

they have just told me about Sissy

Just now they have told me

though I knew all along

I was a wussy

I could have told them as much

I could have saved them the decency

I would have spared them as much

the inclemency put in me


Sissy, My Twin Sister

is a Native American

They say she is a spirit

say she lives in my vas deferens

When we were born

we were cautioned against comedy

We were told we could wait

told we did not have the money

Without money you grow wussardly

and pour too many baths

“Others graduate to showers,”

my mother told me at my calves

She was cussing

Others’ hours spent at lakes

brothers tearing out the flowers

“They will haunt me,” she told me

But Mother knows not what’s best

for me and Sissy


Imagine again I am fourteen years old

they have just told me about Sissy

I already know

They want me to kill her

want me to piss her out my ninny

They want me to sizzle her hold

on the gizzard within me

They want me to populate the world

with Whiners and Nillies

If you are really asking whether

science takes me seriously

I give no credit to doctors

Their daughters invite me to sleepovers

and ask me for makeovers

to wrestle out bulldozers

from bullies


I am no open season

I am no closed parenthese

I am body to a womb

I am mother to Sissy


Still the doctors persist. They tell me,

“Even if on your weaker days you may think

‘There is a place where a voice joins us in harmony.

Can you hear it?’ Even if you might think

‘When you listen from one place

you can hear the other one entirely.’

Even if you tell yourself, ‘Believe me.’

We both know the reality

Those moments with Sissy only act as indemnity

before they reveal their silly laughter

so much like a volcano they

may as well be the dust blown away after

Can’t you see?”

That’s what the doctors tell me

And ask me how doctors

treat their daughters

when they lie


I’ve seen it

It is not this way

Honesty is Sissy

Sissy stays inside


When I unravel it is

thoughts of Sissy that move me

I propel forward

though my sister still cornered stirs

on the lee-side and

I cannot release me

If I let go

I will become a monster

I know it

If I let one thing go

I will collapse completely

You say so

but I am not stubborn

I am not peacefully


I am harbor to a vessel

and that vessel is Sissy


 By: Jacob Perkins, Contributor





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