footsteps in the mirror

i’m becoming you
despite my best attempts 
to stop it

i hear the cynicism in my voice
and tone 

i hear the ambition
and the idealism
lofty in volume
sit and watch as the days go by
the pitter, patter of dreams
falling to the ground

i notice it when i fall in love
with a new memory
from a romantic past;
i caress it 
as if i could manifest it
sink deeper and deeper
in the affection of it
lose a day in all 
the thinking of it

i think we think 
similarly;
obsess over small things
lose sight of the big things
trust our gab
to get us out of trouble;
it’s our little game, i guess
and so far
we’ve done alright

i don’t talk much anymore
but you still do
and you don’t listen much anymore 
but i still try 

sometimes when i’m alone
i wonder if it’s like you 
when you’re alone—
lots of looking around 
thinking to ourselves;
me, wondering if i’m lost
you wondering 
when you’ll be found 

why am i so critical of you
just waiting for you to fuck up
at every turning second
so eager to whale on you
lash out at you
beat you down
find something wrong
stand in the middle of you 
and your life
while you stand in the middle 
of me and mine

i resent your train of thought
because I can’t seem to follow the tracks
i make note of when the subjects change
pay close attention to your isms
the way you deftly place a trailing thought
and laugh it off with a resounding clap—

that’s your neurosis but i have mine
a similar type of ADD
one rooted in less fever and passion 
one rooted in feeling overwhelmed
one rooted in distraction 
[in my brain]
my train veering off the tracks 

when i hug you and you hug me
i can feel the way you were embraced
and the lack thereof 
it’s disjointed and unknown
it’s slack and imbalanced
fleeting and wondering
impatient and uncomfortable
but there is a yearning there
and this is how i know

that when i look at my reflection
i see you looking at yourself
wondering the same things
will you be you or will you be him
will i be you or will i be me