For a moment I was almost happy there,
Content and satisfied
With the belief that I was fulfilled.
Then I found out about your brilliance.
I already knew about it, of course,
Deep down, very deep down –
I was proud of you, I am.
I guess I didn’t want to share it
With others and the world
Because seeing you flourish makes me
I’ll tell you I’m sorry soon,
I’ve already said it so many times,
You’ve said the same to me,
Convinced me that you feel the same envy, that I’m normal, that it’s natural,
But that’s all just part of your brilliance, isn’t it.
That kindness – the sort I wish I had –
When people say altruism is inherently selfish, you
Are the exception to their rule because you
Said that with nothing else in mind but healing my wound.
A wound I created from my own mortal flaws.
You don’t have those flaws and people, everyone,
Sees it. They see you
For what you really are, for the brilliance that you hold, and
You are being rewarded for that brilliance,
You don’t see it as a reward though,
(You’d be shocked at the idea of anything like that deserving a reward!)
You see it as a stage in your life.
A stage in your life that I haven’t got to yet,
And it hurts. But
If it takes me being selfishly unhappy for you to receive your due
Then I will suffer what I need to because you
Deserve it all. You deserve the world.
And your art exhibition will be great. I know it,
Because you are brilliant. And that’s okay.
A poem about the jealousy I feel when my sister succeeds, how competitive our relationship has been.
By Coco Kemp-Welch