Envy

I envy the way she looks
So perfect- tall, thin
The way her mocha coloured eyes shine
Their warm, entrancing coffee glow

I hate the way she walks
Lithe, graceful- perfect;
And the way she talks
With her confidence, arrogance
It just spurs everybody on;

She’s neither shy nor too bold
She’s beautiful and she's been told
She flaunts it
And I hate that;

I hate that I can never be like her
My eyes can never outshine the stars
Nor my smile blind the sun
My skin and lips don’t feel satin
And it’s all I can do not to run

Shatter every mirror in existence
Everything that puts me to shame
From her face to her smile
Her wit to her brilliant mind

I just want to destroy it all
The living curse that she is
And take things back to the way they used to be
You, me, and our perfect dream.

The End

7 comments about this poem Feed