Envy

It must be a nice thing
To wake up,
Be able to get out of bed,
Not feel too disgusting to eat
If you have anything to eat
And be able to see yourself
Without feeling like you
Want to take a knife
And cut off any fat you see
It must be a nice thing
Not to wonder if this will be
The day you finally kill yourself
"In the eyes of a homeless person,
I'd be considered a rich person"
I pathetically mumble to myself
In a pitiful attempt to make me smile
It brings more gratfulness to me
But never a smile..
There must be something wrong with me
Maybe at heart I'm truly selfish..
That would explain it..
Selfish hearts are never satisfied..