Mr. Hide

My other self sits closer

than comfort at my side

as I stroll down streets in

my mind and try to outrun

Mr. Hide,

At lunch for one, yet

two show up to eat

and his corpse-like eyes

are staring at me, his

appearance unwholesome

to greet, his face sagging to

the left and wandering

looks pierce my soul,

She stares at his forehead

that isn't quite centered,

and I try to speak to pull

her glace from noticing the

puss on his skin and arms,

But my skin crawls from

remembrance that his

white splotches are my own

and as she looks away I want

to hide my secondary morbid

self that clings to my side.