#doppleganger
She’d said, I, “looked good in black,” and
she did, she did, she did too; So much so
that sooner’d come a swift exit at,
“Martyr’s Park,” a tempt embedded
venture, conjoined, coerced and later
beholden to our ghosts; apparitions in an
ugly early morning, post – biology, words
whispered with only one intent and
eventual ****** under guise of the night
that’d ensue eternity. Blanketed our
beauty wrought twisted skin, it remained
an ugly never aware, whilst she discarded
my newest misfortune, the forgone
forlorn cloth of impasse. I reciprocate, so
much so that beyond her ulterior lace, a
pale yellow beckoned, “ever,” below -
“Kiss me,”
When I grin and I do ‘midst
Admiring the freckly upon
This desperately hidden scripture –
One scarred
Right shoulder,
This greatest discovery, if only a human
kind of crater and just under tear-smeared
mascara, forever danced, come the
lacking light or whatnot. Echoes etched
some prior author, some other lover, and
yet still to bleed, like sweat, like work,
and now, her nails stay to trace another
saga atop the, “bare” only I could offer.
Sacrament, the moments blemished,
“now,” and immortality’s, “future,”
promised, whispered, and guised a
matrimony that’d break hearts come
morning, come the moment when she’d
drip like the rain, bend like the leaf
kissing chaos and gently ask, “could you
be me?” “Would you be me?” “Could
you, please be me?”
Her (English) name was, "Taylor."
Jul 12, 2015
Jul 12, 2015 at 9:51 AM UTC
My own eyes betray me.
They fight down any chance of peace.
I approach you as a friend, and they **** you into foe.
Scatter my handshake into reproach.
I promise, my intentions are clean
Even if they give you ***** looks.
If there’s one person you can’t trust
It’s that ****** that sits at your emotional steering wheel.
He looks like you
Dresses like you
Sounds like you
Everyone thinks he IS you.
He’ll take any ******* chance he’s got to drive you into brick walls
And bail for you to take the blame,
Nothing but a dopple-ganger
Trying to justify the actions of a psychopath
Who stays out of sight
Convenient,
I’ll always take the fall.
Nov 17, 2015
Nov 17, 2015 at 11:10 AM UTC
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
Mar 5, 2015
Mar 5, 2015 at 3:35 PM UTC
Long and dark corridors
A medical wing
Flickering fluorescent lights
And a man with a ring
Dressed all in black
Familiar scars
Passing windowed rooms
Reflecting faint fluorescent stars
Broken glass under boots
Mirroring the light
Whilst this man keeps moving forward
A wraith of the night
Steel-framed door
And a birthday passcode
2-1-0-9 and he's in
No light and all shadow
Just a window for a wall
And a Butchering freak
Bladed or blunted weapons
Bloodlust and fresh meat
Tied up are the innocent
Power to the psychopath
If there's one thing to be known
That son of a ***** makes pain last
A torturous death causing
A tortured souls' song
In the throes of insanity
The Butcher sings along
And this doppelgänger of me
He quietly stands
Calmly watching friends die
As I clench my own hands
He may look like me
But that's where it ends
I'd give the world to save them all
But clearly Nightmares don't care
May 9, 2016
May 9, 2016 at 7:48 AM UTC
When frequencies meet
with the same intensity,
one object feels the other—
just as soul and mind connect
with the rhythm of pulse.
Its. like doppelgänger never meets,
yet vibrates with the same force;
shadows breathe where dark
emerges from the light.
It is the singing bowl’s arcane,
where water creates healing sound,
and nature balances
the circle of life.
Shall it called mere resonance
or some mystical bound?
Sep 24, 2025
Sep 24, 2025 at 12:21 AM UTC
You cannot pass through shards of glass, but it's too strong to be broken.
I look at my daunting reflection, and it turns from me. Yet I know that if I turn in response, it would come right through the mirror.
Could I shatter the other me?
If I do, will I forever be lost?
The doppelgänger who so despises me; could I destroy it and somehow remain unchanged?
O' mirror on the wall,
hate me—ignore my call.
If you think that I need you... perhaps I do, but no matter the case, I'll deny that it's true.
For I'm bound to you, as you are to me—
So learn to accept me, or we'll cease to be.
Apr 29
Apr 29, 2026 at 3:16 PM UTC