It isn't me,
he just looks like me.
And even though he looks like me,
He doesn't act like me.

His mind isn't a meadow like mine.
His is a dry, dark and dead forest.
His eyes aren't brown like mine are.
The iris is big and the eyes are dark beige.

His hands are clenched and his teeth are grinding.
His mouth is snarling
His eyes, hollow and blank eyes, stare out from my skull.
It isn't me, it's just my doppleganger