Doppelganger

They say he looked just like me

they say he wrote poems and stared up into the night sky

they say he timed the satellites

they say he was chubby and thick willed

they say he had hordes of nightmares and never slept

they say he grew a beard of his frustrations

they say he sat alone and typed and typed

they say he drove too fast and could have hurt himself

they say he liked to check out the waitresses with side-eye

they say he never bluffed and always raised before the call

they say he could never outrun his ghosts but always tried

they say after he left he was a different person

they say he played guitar unsure of his tuning

they say he would always flip a lucky

they say he held onto what he wanted to say, even though it hurt

they say he tips too large so his name will be remembered

they say he once fell for a woman outside a rock concert

they say he runs the same route every day

they say he always took his whiskey neat

they say he thought too much about his fingers and texture,

they say he thought too much about the touch of his tongue

they say he waits in line at the post office to have company

they say he bore his truths like sacrificial offerings

they say he wasn’t ok with his own head

I don’t know him, I haven’t met him

but I’ll have to destroy him

because they say he looks just like me