It starts off merely little things:
The way you walk, the way you speak;
While slowly I become you:
How you live, how you think.
I begin by getting close to you:
Your friend, your devotee.
Soon when people look for you
They don’t realize that it’s me.
In the end I finally disappear:
The outsider, the synthetic twin.
“Your” friends never find
The shallow grave I put you in.
Goldie’s CW prompt for the week:
“Write a story inspired by the word “clone.””