While you are me, and I am almost you,
I cannot help but think you spin me lies.
I do not think that what we say is true.

Your letter's from our future—and we rise
to conquer bloody challenges ahead—
though you are me, and I am almost you.

I find it less than clear, sir, that we prize
a similar result, from all you've said:
I do not think that what we say is true.

No—one's more apt to argue you despise
the shadow of a past you thought was dead—
because you're me, and I am almost you.

If one of us will live, then I surmise
your end is mine, someday. Am I misled?
I do not think that what we say is true!

I cannot show us mercy; the surprise
of knives must sever both our threads…
for you were me, but I’m becoming you.
(I do not think that what we said was true.)

© 2023 Brian Hugenbruch