I know...

...I know where I've been. I have a pretty good idea of where I'm going. I know my name but not the meaning. I know what I've done, and I have an idea of the Hell I'll have to go though someday to try to fix it.

  And yet I still have these memories, of her, of the one I once knew. And when I walk down the Street they speak your name, and I answer, the act as though they know who we really are.
  They make promises, they will never keep. They look you in the eye as they lie straight to your face, saying that they will be there when you need them the most. But when you give them the sign that you're hurting or need help, they turn their back and step away.

  Every morning when I look into the mirror I see your face gazing back at me. It's cruel you know. To have left me so, to have left me alone with them. I never knew what your world was like until now.

And. As I walk through the shadows, and the valley of death to your grave. And I begin to weep, I've realized that it wasn't me who had lived all these years alone, with a lover her, and a girlfriend there. It was you.
It was you who fell in love, it was you who took Vanessa Jones to homecoming your sophomore year, and made love in the bathroom. It was you who lived, who loved.
It was you who lived, the grave called out...and it was me who died that day not you, yet it was me who took your place and you who filled my grave, until now when we finally will be rejoined at last.
My beloved, well loved ghost sister. The one who fills my grave.

I know, because we are one and the same.