her hair falls down her back and
glistens as she flaunts passed me
confidently

she has new jeans and heels that click down the hallways announcing her
arrival

she smiles at everyone and it is so
clean and beautiful that you can't help
but stare

her skin is smooth like the girls'
in the commercials that flash on your
screen

if i am compared to a daisy in a field
of roses then she is the earth
in which they sprout from

she is the definition of lady like
while I am the elbows on the table
at dinner time

she is the girl next door
the one you marry and have at least
2.5 children with

i am the one who has whispered
curses and disappointing stares to
define her

she is not sugar and honey but instead
is the combination of lavender and pine

relaxing and natural

i am hours in the mirror
staring at my reflection wondering
when will it start answering back

she doesn't own a mirror for fear
that she will behave selfishly
because looking at yourself is vain

i think looking at myself
is punishment that i was so wrongly
convicted with

but my paroles aren't short lived
it's a constant voice in my head
saying i'll never be like her

she is everything i am not
because i am not like her
but i want to be