I Hate Him.

I hate him.

He's perfect.

Doesn't feel pain.

He mocks me.

He knows me.

He's attached to me.

I hate him.

He follows me in the day.

He keeps his secrets to himself.

He's in my room at night.

He stares at me.

Glares at me.

I hate him. 

I want to be him.

I envy him.

I want to erase him. 

I feel disgusted by his company. 

I feel haunted and excited. 

I want to touch him. 

I hate him.

For he is me.

But I can never be him.

The proof that I am solid.

The proof that I exist.

He is my shadow.