history

it started with an itch under my skin and a deadline in my eyesight
it ended with a bloody fist and a bruised ego.
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it's always been violent, with me. you need to remember that. it's always been violent because somehow i got violence confused with expression and decided to always wear a scowl.
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you used to be so hungry for fame.
i've always been wolfing down the infamy.
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it was pretense that brought us together, it was me who tore us apart. because i don't like being lied to, i don't like being cheated. don't try to slide the queen of hearts out of your shirtsleeve, she's been in my wallet for years.
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i don't have cheekbones, talent or motivation. what i do have is miles and miles, gallons and gallons of bile and venom and vehemence because that's easier, isn't it?
you should know. you've got the same.
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it was your fightclub against my lessthanzero
funny, that.
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sometimes i catch a glimpse of you, in a sweaty club, in a darkened bar, in a brickcrumbling alley. sometimes i think you catch a glimpse of me, despite my best efforts.
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sometimes you think people want more than you can give. you're wrong. they don't want what you have to give. they just want to know everything about you, everything that makes you you. they want to understand, because if they understand, then they can own. and if they can own, then they can be powerful.
don't you get it?
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so you tried to destroy the dream you'd built. while i tried to reenact my nightmares.
we failed, miserably
victory never suited our complexions
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my personality has always been a lie – i can spin them faster than i can say them. it may be that i don't want people too close, so i let them befriend someone else. maybe if i didnt, maybe you and i would have gotten on better.
except for the fact you do exactly the same thing.
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twins.
we were always reluctant recalcitrant twins.
steeped in alcohol, spitting our teeth on the ground.
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i started as an itch under your skin and a deadline in your eyesight
you ended with a bloody fist and a bruised ego.