say ‘hi there’ to her bad body double;
mmhmm, this is her bad body double trouble;
oh no, her bad body double;
mmhmm, she’s got bad body double trouble-

she’s flavor text on an unfortunate tarot card
stapled to the forehead like the
ward-paper of a tainted doll.

she’s a gold-inlaid
snuff box
full of curses and wickedness;

she’s a dragon
gazing down at thermometers.

she’s saying you never cared,
she’s saying she never cared,
she’s saying if you ever cared
you wouldn’t be hurt

by her not caring,

she’s saying you think your feelings matter more
because she spat in your face,

and what gall have you
to wipe it off?

she pleads insanity
every half hour,

and hates that fairness
doesn’t have a Community Chest;

she’s got bad body double trouble,
she’s got bad body double trouble,

she’s wearing the dress uniform of saints
so she can pour blood and dirt into the font,

she puts fire ants in your brown sugar
and then buys you a new box of tea;

don’t bother her when she’s busy, she’ll feel smothered;
don’t busy yourself when she’s calling, she’ll feel lonely;
don’t say that

being called worthless
isn’t a compliment

or the clouds will burst
and the blue silk sky will rend itself
and all the sins of the simple will rain down upon you

all because you didn’t deserve to be stiletto-stepped on
and you let the heel know,

because you know the difference between feeling like you know everything
and knowing that no one would take that kind of treatment,

but you never know it quickly enough to say,
“wait, stop,
that’s my toe,
that’s my ankle,
that’s my eye,
that’s my heart,”

because this all started because
you just got out of bed,

because this all started because
you fell in love with something that
remembered every moment when you
thought you were too much
and put your hands up
and put your fingers on your lips
and put your lips gently on

but something took her one night through the window

and put this steel trap in her bed
and taught her how to whittle skin
and how to
wish she could actually whittle skin 

and wants you to feel bad for saying
they’re actually different people;

she says she hates you,
she says she said it because she wants you to hate her,
she says she hates herself,
she says she loves you,
she says she hates that you don’t agree,
she says she hates you,

she wants to die,
she wants to kill,
she wants to show them all,

she never heard you say
you wished she would listen

because
you said
you wished she would listen;

she’d bite her own tongue
if it wouldn’t snake away.

she’s trying,
but the shadow is winning.

and she wants so badly for others
to lie down and say it’s their fault

so she could stop trying to hunt and kill her rage
and just blame the fires and blood
on someone else.

but it has her face.
who else can it be?