You got the quiet.
I got the noise.
You got the end.
I got the chores.
You got release from all this choice.
I got the days.
And then some more.
You don’t have to wake up split in two,
Or fake a face you never chose.
You don’t have to drag your grief
Through grocery lines and broken roads.
You don’t hear people say your name
And flinch like it’s a sudden blow.
You don’t feel time keep moving on
Like it’s personally fucking you over slow.
You got the mercy of enough.
I got the cruelty of again.
Again the sun. Again the breath.
Again the loss. Again. Again.
I envy your stillness. I do.
Your peace that doesn’t beg or ache.
I envy that nothing demands from you
What every day demands I take.
You don’t have to eat this grief
Three times a day to stay alive.
You don’t have to prove your worth
By continuing to survive.
They say you’re lucky to have loved,
As if love doesn’t maim and scar.
As if loving you didn’t turn
My entire future into barbed wire.
You got the ending.
I got the mess.
You got the rest.
I got the test.
A lifetime sentence with no appeal
For the crime of loving my twin best.
You don’t have to watch the world pretend
This was survivable, clean, okay.
You don’t have to hear them praise my strength
For not laying down beside you every day.
You died once.
A single blow.
A closing door.
A final breath.
I have to keep showing up
To a life that feels
Like prolonged death.
So if I sound angry, jealous, unkind
Good. That means I’m still awake.
Because existing without you
Is the cruelest fucking thing
This universe could create.