My evil half,
It shares my name, traits, looks and brain, but never my tears, as she turns my clean thoughts into her plotted dramas.

She trails me into her sequenced hell, a hell that was forever deemed to perfection, making me a competing opponent to our every campaigns.

My evil twin,
Calling me her everything, always wanting her converted side, we had always shared my whole, while embracing the randomness of our lives, she loved throwing her dirt at me, while at a constant, she cleans her bloodied hands on my body any chance she gets.

My masked identity,
A transparent cover up to my inadequate tears, for it brought every scream to my near death.

My transplanted half,
Staged like a scary mask, that fades out the existence of my identity.

My starving...