To my little sister, during the rough times

I wish that I could offer you more
than a promise that I will always
be in your corner.
I wish that I could give you more
than open arms and I love you’s and
3 am phone calls.
I will always be your cheerleader
when the bottom of the ninth
doesn’t bode well,
but you have to be the one to hit the runs
and decide which pitch to paint with
your last hopes of victory.
I wish that I could offer you more
than a hand to hold when nowhere
feels like home
and even if I’m not always the body
your smaller frame wants to collapse into,
I’ll keep reminding you -
I will always be in your corner, little fighter,
and through every storm you brave, I’ll be right here,
as the skies grow lighter.