you need an excuse,
a quick simple lie
rolling off the tip of your tongue
to disguise the true reality
of underachieving;
there's actually no reason.

I have my father's mind:
logical, quick-witted, carefree,
always searching for sublime meaning
in words and people
over a third cup of tea.

and my mother's heart;
soft, selfless to a fault, empathetic
searching for ways to attain happiness
for everyone but themselves;
ultimately alone.

Within me,
*they are still together.

Maybe it was never love,
but envy,
because your carefree nature
didn't come from battling hardships;
your scars exist only outside;
and your life falls perfectly
according to plan
while mine keeps falling apart.

Perhaps this bitter
resentment I hold
is because you never
quite appreciate
how whole you are--
while I am cracked edges
pasted together.

heart sinking slowly
a deflated balloon
as the world around me
turns slightly
but I thought perhaps
there are others
like myself;
suspended, inanimate
facing failures while
whistling showground tunes
and yet
it is a delusion:
through rose-tinted glasses,
I wanted to perceive others
--and belong, encapsulated,
in a bubble with other warm hearts.
honestly,
the world hasn't stopped;
it doesn't turn for anyone
but me.

Better than you;
always considered myself superior
--a delusion I nurtured
with vicious remarks
and cold sniggers;
within the remotest of land,
full of dust,
you learned to bloom
with your youthful flowers
growing larger
than me
and yourself.

Competing,
sabotaging, manipulating,
controlling, demeaning, angering,
underestimating, avenging,
hurting
stops when you
learn to respect
that person.

A fatal flaw
of selflessness
that is humbling
on paper
but self-destructive.