She is the light

When she spread her wings

And takes flight

She is the high test scores

The first place medals belong to her

Above the rest is where she soars

I am… something

She is beautiful

I am the neck you want to wring

She sings

I barely even

Speak

She flys

While I’m

Dying

She is colorful

perfect

I don’t deserve her

I hate her

She is so special

And I’ll never express my fury

I want to talk

But every time I try

She brushes me off

She is not my friend

She acts

Indifferent towards me

She is awful

Yet I am

Worse

She cries

Yet I

Ignore it

Im done trying to be her

Perfect person

Maybe I’m done with all of it

Where she is happy in the light

I am in the darkness

Trying to write

She is a butterfly, sweet and soft

I am not a butterfly

I am a moth

And if she ever decides to talk

When the world is really going crazy

My door will already be locked

The quietest words

Are earsplitting

In darkness.