I see you. How you make me feel.
Your smile blinds me, bleeds me
Your security my threat, your warmth my cold demeanor.
You act like you have it all. You must have it all. You are in love everyday
And I can't feel it in my own life.
'Just because you don't see her problems doesn't mean she has none,' Christian peeps say with assurance, their fingers icy when I touch them.
But I see you with problems, you attack them with your laughter, you silence them with your kisses of positivity. I shake my head, insane. It's not fair, how happy you are.
I make an attempt, try to find mine, but counterfeits come instead to mock me. Swallowing me again with the ongoing depression.
While you are fantasizing in your own world, dancing in your own beat, tantalizing my senses on something that I want but can't get because maybe, I might not have the right key.
I want your man. I want the love he gives you, the happiness he makes you feel. The kisses of passion that make you melt into chocolate bliss. I have never seen him, and I want to see him!
I finally catch you, my prey, by my long nails that I reserve for freaks like you. You shriek in fear, and I shake you.
'I want him,' I hiss.
Your eyes are wide, of curiousity, of--amusement? 'Who?' you question.
'Your boyfriend,' I say, my voice shaking.
'I don't have one.' You pull your arm away and skip off, singing a tune in your own head.
And my brain churns of more jealousy.