Envy

I just want to be like them.
They walk the halls with such confidence
And such pride.
They all seem to have such luscious hair that falls so perfectly in place.
My hair always seems nice when I leave the house, but whenever I get the chance to glance into a mirror I regret ever getting out of bed.
They all own the wardrobe of a celebrity, one that I could never afford.
The makeup that they all plaster their faces with looks like artwork that’s been hung up at a gallery.
When I put on makeup I look like a clown on Halloween night.
All the boys at school like them.
There’s not one boy who can’t say that they haven’t liked them at least once.
Boys don’t look my way, better yet they look away when I try and maneuver myself through the crowded halls.
Why do they get to be so perfect?
And why am I forced to be such a walking disaster.
I have tried to fix my hair to make myself look a little less messy then I usually do
But that never works for me. I could use all the hairspray in the world and my hair would still stick up out of place, making me a walking static ball.
I have spent tons of money on clothes and shoes that I don’t even like just so that I could try and fit in.
Everything is so uncomfortable, yet I still wear it everyday because hey, if that is what’s going to give me a shot at being pretty like them then its worth it.
Beauty is pain, and I’m willing to die if it means ill be beautiful.
I have tried to wear makeup the way that they do, but all that has done for me has made me the laughing stalk of the school because I forgot you need to hide your face in the rain.
I just want to be like them.
I just want to be beautiful.
I just want to be pretty.
I just want to be popular.
I just want to be liked.
I have broken the best parts of myself while trying to be perfect
And I don’t know what to do anymore.