whythefuckdidiwritethis

It’s half past midnight.
And for the third time this week,
I sleep on the couch.

Upstairs,
I hear them laughing,
Watching movies.

One is my brother,
That white-winged dweeb, my own twin.
Junior actor.

And her,
With iron arms and
Bladed fingers.

Pillows over ears
Don’t hide the fact that he found
Her before I could.

The clock ticks
Cars roar by in the street
The stars
Looking down at nothing.

Well done, twin of mine.
You’ve beat me at something I
Thought I was best at.