You’re Just as Me

Can’t tell front from back
nor strands of hair from winter vines
and you’re just as peculiar as me

You

with your upside-down frown
and that stupid nightgown
You wear it all over the town

All I want to do is rip it down
And stomp it into the ground

And me

I am a terrible basket of mischief.
I, myself, am unraveling
I don’t have time for your bickering sadness
I barely have time to ignore my own

I can’t be always expecting to get a call
instructing me to drive over and collect your ashes
from the basement of an outdated morgue
While your sarcastic shadow stares at me
from behind a half-broken olive-green door

It’s hard enough just to look at myself
I can’t be haunted also by a dumbass ghost,
one who is prettier than me and more angry

I need you to float away into the drainpipe

Dear, you are not better
You were not more clever
and your bones will
not hurt me again

You are just as dead as me.
Now kindly let me be.