The Thief of Joy

Comparison is the thief of joy. But how can I not when she points out my flaws? I would trade anything for one day in her body. For boys to treat me the way they treat her. For men to look at me, notice me. They say she has problems too. That she's failing school, that she's hurting deep, burning herself from the inside out. But if that's true, I'd strike a match. Burn myself from the outside in if it meant I could steal, Just one moment, even a flicker Of her perfect little life. Because How The hell. How the hell does she always say the right thing? look so perfect? How can her laugh sound like that, if she’s about to cry? How can she make friends without trying? While I try harder, yet still come out broken. she must have won God's lottery. But how when I've scratched that ticket too. Scratched it raw, Scratched it till my fingers bled Hoping, Hoping maybe, just maybe I'd win a fraction of her life. And I know what she's doing to me. She's consuming my every thought. My every being. The girl with no freckles and the perfect toned legs. I’m not her. I've never been. So I watch from afar with a smile on my face. But once I caught her gaze The perfect girl with the perfect hair. As she opened her mouth and sighed, a long deep one. And she whispered, low and hushed. So no one but me could hear “I wish I could be like her”.