Our minds decay because of the stress we place upon it.
We do not need to feel jealous.
But we feel obligated to feel so.
You become jealous of what you don't have.
Whether it's the hot girl or the attractive guy.
The loving and understanding parents or the well rounded family.
Jealousy is not pretty.
It rears its head around to penetrate your skin.
Ready to strike you where it hurts the most.
In your heart.
You begin to seap into the sinkhole that is your misfortune.
You begin to pay attention to your friends and what they have.
The words that come out of their mouth and hit you hard.
The attention they receive for doing something menial.
Their advantages over you.
That is all that you see.
You see their amazing relationships and their lovely awards.
Everything you wish you had.
Your skin begins to concave and crumple under the weight.
You're left feeling hollow and out of place, unsure right from wrong.
Your jealousy has left you empty.
You ended up lashing out at your friend, leaving them blinded and wounded.
But you're equally as hurt by your actions.
Because of your jealousy...
You're losing everyone and everything.
Once it's gone, it's gone.
And you never get it back.
...so start from square one.
What went wrong and how do you fix it?
What could've went better and how do you avoid it next time?
How do you stop this from happening?
You don't want to lose everything again over something like jealousy.
The flower girl never ceases to not leave you envious.
The snake laughs in your face.
The tornado boy mocks your misfortune.
The music blasting into your skull agrees with you.
The plaque that your name isn't on is tormenting your subconscious.
The weekend leaves you with wandering thoughts of sublime feelings.
The universe can't help you sort out the rage and jealously building your bio luminescent walls made of steel.
You blame it on the fact your human, and everyone feels like this sometime.
Your skin wishes to somethings it's not.
The award was only for participation.
Your relationships will only become awkward if you don't fix your mistake.
The words given to them cling to your skin like a vice, pleading for some of jealousy to seap away.
The simplicity of letting go passes you by before you know it.
The random feeling of virtue and promise has yet to come.
But your house made of concrete encourages you to try for something more, to make it right, so you can feel weightless.
So you can achieve flight.
The weight of your jealousy no more.
And you can fly free.
Jealousy is never pretty.
But doesn't mean it needs to burden your wings with its weight.