For the prompt, Sisters.
The polar opposite
A mirror image of myself
When I looked at her, I saw perfection
When she looked at me, she saw failure
I have never met anyone as perfect as her
And I was jealous
It filled my body with rage, and it spilled out of my mouth in the form of foul words and poisonous sentences
And I lost control
Why did she have to be perfect?
Blood wouldn't be on my hands
On my shirt
On my face
In my hair
If she wasn't perfect,
If I was better
Her body wouldn't be lying on her floor
I really loved her, but they won't believe me
I guess no one will, now.
Because I will never be perfect, not as perfect as her.