Envy tells me a story,
One, he was told by my friends.
He tells me about their happiness,
And how it never seems to end.
How their lives seem to be so perfect,
While I’m crumbling apart.
I wish Envy would leave me,
But he’s adamant to break my heart.
Envy whispers triumphs,
Another crushing defeat.
I should feel happy for them,
Instead, I feel weak.
This world is passing me by,
While I stand frozen in time,
Perhaps my chance to shine,
Passed long ago.
As I look in the mirror,
Envy tells me my inadequacies.
He points to the acne,
And the glasses on my face.
He isn’t kind to me,
And he calls me a disgrace.
I beg him to stop,
But he only laughs at my expense.
Oh, how Envy hurts me,
But, oh, how it makes sense.
The snare of comparison is tight around my neck,
It won’t come loose, it’s like a noose,
Except wrapped inside my head.
Like a rabbit in a trap, I’m trapped,
With no way to break free.
On those days, I feel, oh, so lonely,
I guess I have my good friend Envy.
Am I a horrible person,
To feel this way?
This envy is constantly darkening my sunny days.
I’ll just look at my word search, as I search,
For the words to say,
And how to say them.
While Envy watches and lurks,
With a subtle smirk,
As I break.
Oh, I envy…
I envy them.
My joys seem,
Arbitrary in comparison.
Envy keeps telling me his sweet stories,
As I consistently demean myself for not being so lucky.
He’s a poet, too,
And he knows what to do.
He never feels restrained or contained.
Envy, he’s crazy, but so captivating,
Showing me what I am missing.
A boyfriend,
I hope it goes well,
And doesn’t meet a bitter end,
Like many stories tell.
Junior year,
Only two more left to go.
When our paths veer,
Will I end up alone?
Envy’s torturous words,
Uttered with malice,
Gathered together like herds,
Feeling inadequate.
Like a knife in my back,
A personal attack,
Against myself,
Highlighting what I lack.
He paints me a portrait,
Of things I’ll never have,
Throw it to the fire,
And watch it burn to ash.
Gather all the remnants,
And add it to the stack.
Pain, heartache, isolation,
Stirred to the surface due to one emotion.
Outsiders might say I have no reason,
But this envy is just like an ocean.
Its waters are so frigid,
Not even Posideon could stand it.
Occasionally, there are ripples,
From little tiny drops.
They’re let out,
And it’s hard for them to stop.
Envy’s villainous gaze,
Would turn Medusa to stone.
I’ll be the lonely monarch sitting on his throne.
I’ll watch from my tower,
As people live in the world below.
Envy by my side, all alone,
In my merciless, envious home.
So, I’ll envy…
A fleeting sense of control.
I’ll envy,
The noose taking hold.
Envy,
My sweetest friend.
Envy,
The one who’ll stay till the end.
I can’t help but envy my friends.
He’s whispering again,
His voice overtaking my head.
I envy…
Oh, I envy them.
I can't help but compare myself to others; it's almost instinctual. Whenever someone succeeds, I feel happy for them, but I am overcome with a feeling of dread that I could never be as successful as they are. Yet, when I succeed, and people comment of it, I brush it off, as if I don't deserve it. Another one of my mind-boggling paradoxes.
