You act so perfect
With your straight hair
and big round eyes
and skinny waist
You are so smart
and kind and gentle
and loving and you want
to work with children. Aww.
Everybody likes you,
no one can say anything bad
or they are just jealous
and spiteful.
Why do you get to be perfect?
Why can’t I be smart, and kind, and gentle
and loving and wants to work with children?
It’s because of you.
Anything I say, you have already said
Any joke I make is not as funny as yours
Any job I want to do, you have already claimed
I can’t think, can’t feel around you
I sit here, spiralling into dispair
looking at the Facebook status
supporting you, when I need it most
but, in comparison, I’m not you
One day, I will be perfect
and I will be more perfect than you
I will be smarter, and kinder, and more gentle
and more loving and be helping children more than you
And you can sit, spiralling
while Facebook is celebrating me
and has forgotten you
because you are not me
But this is a fantasy
and can never happen
because I will never be you
and it’s your fault.
**I cannot wait to be rid of you.