Empty, empty, empty
Not good enough
I was proud for a second,
But I don't feel that way anymore

I was good until someone was better
And now nothing I do can match what they did
I know I'm not supposed to compare,
But at this point, I don't care

Telling myself that would only make me feel guilty now.
I want to tell you to stop being so good
So that I can stop being so bad.
Your words are lovely. Now mine seem empty.

I want to know what gave you this power,
And in a moment of weakness, I wish I could make you feel like this.
I want to be better than you.
I want to relish in your jealousy, and I don't even know your name.

And then that moment passes, and I'm left with nothing,
But poems without points and verses with awkward choruses in between,
And I only threw those in because it sounded like something you would do.
***** me. ***** my "creativity." It all just feels empty.