Jealousy

Watch quietly, from my corner. Silently watching. Glancing away. I can’t look at you, when you do this. Makes my insides go numb. Makes my mind buzz angry. Angry. Why can’t I be you? Why can’t I do that? Why can’t I be loved?
Uncontrollable. I know how wrong it is, but no matter how much I tell myself, I can’t shake off the feeling. You have so much more. You have so much more. And you don’t even have to try. Natural power. Flick your hair that way, mischievous smile, you get them all. You don’t even have to want it. You can control everyone. Even me. You can make anyone grovel. You can make anyone feel bad for not being as good as you. And, of course you’re gorgeous. At least, gorgeous like those fake plastic bodies, like the airbrushed models, like the dream come true. Above standards, even. And the standards are so high for us. It’s so easy for you, too. You never break out, you never get shy, you never feel awkward, you never lose your cool. You’re perfect. I’ll  stand in your shadow, left to rot. I would never want to be like you.
We love to hate you. Or, at least I do. Everyone else is under your skin-deep spell. Your lovely mouth, your delicate hands, a figure to die for. They look at you. Your perfect skin, powdered to perfection. Your moist lips. You never were ugly, like us. We’re all ugly, because of you. You raise the bar higher as we just begin to reach it. You steal the spotlight, you captivate the crowd. You are the angel. How could I not hate you? You walk like a star, like you know it. You never trip. Not one scratch on your beautiful being. Your hips are full, your body is thin, you buy the best clothes, with the best names. The most fitting for you. It’s so easy, isn’t it?
When I see you, I scream inside. I scream because I see them look at you, I see them see you. All girls should look like you do, they seem to think. I feel like you took them all. I have a hard time finding anyone to be with, anyone to talk to, to smile with. Could you just go? Leave me alone. You don’t know. You can ask for anything, and they’ll listen. They’ll help you. Have you ever even been helpless? Have you even not had someone to save you? You don’t know how it is to be me. I have to save myself.
You’re nice. Did you know that? Despite your perfection, you seem to be nice. But, that even hurts. Because, you don’t have to feel sad. The sick feeling just fills me up. I can’t stand it. And, I’m sorry for that. Lucky, you who won’t be. Because you’ll never have to feel jealous. Because, you’re the top of it all. You can look down at us, watch, but you’re so high above it, that you’re blinded by the clouds that flow over it all. And we’re all begging to be up there with you.