i don't know how to 'freshen up'

my little sister emerges from her bedroom like she spent the night with little birdies that know the secret so simple beauty. her face is soft and sweet and has no marks, like those incredible days when there just isn't a cloud in the sky. she always smells like she slept on a flower petal, or a lilypad.

i look like i spent the night on a wandering insect, who burrowed through hilly dirts and woke up in a dirty pub after one two many whiskies. i must sleep like a nightmare, tugging my blankets all over my face until it is ruddy and awake. my clothes hang off my shoulders and i look like i threw them on in a hurry, like i had a late night visitor who ransacked my body and left nothing for me. i wake up empty and tired and ugly.

then my sister prances about the room. she is like a grasshopper, and she is beautiful and she is always beautiful. she glows like she is made of lemonade, and she always feels like it's summer. she wakes up like it's june, and sleeps like it's august. she is so wonderful.

i am an old barn. i'm bound to collapse eventually, and the teenagers that have their drinking parties inside of me know this. i will fall, and if they are inside of me, i will kill them. so they stopped coming months ago. and now i am empty.