Poetry, One-Shots, and Song Lyrics

Doppelganger

It's hard to fight an enemy

you can never keep an eye on;

except in pics or mirrors,

or in screens without the lights on

Unpredictable, my worst friend,

only acts on impulse, and scratching

at himself in search to find a single sign of pulse,

Claiming all of his thoughts as another's, still not sure of his intent.

Sees little consequence,

talks too much, is fairly dense,

and even on the best of days,

the two of us can't make amends.

He tends to sit there, silent,
s

ulking, just for kicks,

and if he sits long enough

for his leg to sleep,

he'll wade the River Styx.

It flows through him; it always has,

like arteries of dark distilled.

It always will,

just lethal enough to hurt,

but never enough to kill -

The enemy wreaks havoc

on my room and grade point average,

with the rations trashing last Decembers gains I could've stashed

His eyes are pitch black, at least,

they should be, only grey,

and if I could ever lay a hand on him,

oh boy, would that be the day.

I guess I have.

I never think I will,

but if I clock him once or twice, it seems,

it's blurry enough to deal.

I'm - He's a mean one.

Days get rough for just an elf.

I want to run away,

but you can't run from yourself.

If I could make one Christmas wish

I'd wish to still be twelve,

and not to dwell on melted

ice cream cones;

or hear St Peter's bell