Dark Collection of Poetry

Not what you think

He follows me everywhere
He knows my every move.
Every thought
Every idea
and it leaves me distraught.

I like to think of him as a friend,
although, knowing he follows me,
scares me to no end.

He's not what I thought,
he's not some bot,
something controlled to seek me.
His name is Peter,
and he's just as scared as me.

Something follows him too,
a cast of darkness in the corner of his eye,
leaving him scared and lost,
stuck within his own mind.

In the corner of my eye,
I see what he sees,
my twin and I never lived a life
without this beast.

Mother never talks of him
only deep in the night
when her soul is lost
and her mind is bright

She says he's dead
mutilated and smelly
stuck in the attic
pinned to a broken telly

She calls him Louie
the name of our father
I don't understand why she says that
because he's always right beside me.