I never pictured you as the type

to appreciate the simple things in life.
To get lost for hours in a garden of flowers,

and snap pictures of fistfuls of lavender pixels.
I always knew you were

addicted to power.
Always knew you were attracted to men who

could fulfil fantasies of damsel in distress,
and could rescue you from towers.

Slay your dragons and demons,
wake you from your sleep, and do it with a kiss.

Where bed sheets only grew knots from tangled 
limbs. But now, sis,

you knot bed sheets to let them in.