Her shadow


I was born as an afterthought
A shadow of her truth
I was never surprised
That I wasn’t their God’s perfect muse

I was a plan B
A wilful addition
Aren’t we all?
We ,the secondary volitions…

I often wonder
Would I have been different
If she’d have stepped in after me
Like her, would I have been as benevolent

In sharing their love
Like a share of the pie
Would I have done the same?
If she teared up would I have cried?

Would I have felt then
What I feel now
Would I have thought myself
A useless tug along tow?

But it hits me
Uselessness is a disease
It has nothing to do with her
My mind goes where it pleases

And it pleases to think me
I’m masochistic that way
Without her as my blissfully ignorant glee


Sigh. Smile. Reminisce.
The thought awakens real slow
In this empty world
I’d rather be her shadow
Than go it alone
Or grant her my own


The house it reeks
of unbearable breath
it speaks of a life
led right unto death

no one to witness
as the pain passes by
no one to see
these rusty eyes cry

You hear the world
knocking on your door
you hear her giving up
on the floor

one can’t help but wonder
is darkness a better fit
is this all that really is?

The shadows are louder now
drowning out the world
the other one the floor is free
but you, you live to say the words

“It is in this house
our demons dwell
it is right here we became
the sisters from hell”