You probably

dont know this

but I have a twin

Shes the one

who writes the poems

and passes them off

as mine.

When we were young

Id try

to reason with her,

make her behave

like you

and me,

but shed sneak out at night, and write

terrible things.

Mornings sometimes

Id find the evidence

on the floor between our beds

Id hide them before

Mom would come in

But it would be too late

to put them back. Too late

to pretend

they didnt exist

too late to negate

the terrible devastation.