2001-02-05 00:44:03 (UTC)

P r i n c e s s Envious of..

P r i n c e s s

Envious of skinny legs
Of stick thin arms
Of breaking, brittle
sunken eyes that
never had the chance to see
life's rich undertones
coming from pure poetry.
Envious of how she moves.
Of the will power that it must
take to form those grooves
that make her hip bones jut out so.
Of how she speaks to me
in dreams - giggling softly
while she screams
Swimming without ever getting wet
And of her ugly pointed
princess crown that stabs
all those who come around.
I never had a crown like that.
Envious of her new lipstick shade.
The kind she made from human blood.
It looks so good on her
overspent lips. On me it
looks a lot like mud.
I wonder how it must
be to sleep with someone
oh so famous - Lucifer
must treat her very well.
He and she together every night
This simple thought -
It makes me sin like mad.
I envy so much the way she feels -
to never care - to not be real.
To be a little starving princess girl
Shedding wanted pounds away
Angry and Unreachable.
And every so often she is envious of how it must feel to be a
wearing, really caring, loudly screaming girl - who gets wet when she
And that's why I'm so envious.
If she could only see
how much better off she is to be Breakable and Pointy
(not bendable and soft like me).
But she never can.
She's a princess
and it's not her job to understand.
One day she'll have to take command.
She'll sit upon a fancy throne
and have to wear the heavy robes of royalty
And underneath their bejeweled weight her body will be empty.
-crushed- She'll crack and crumble to the floor.
And then, and only then,
will I not envy anymore.
(I didn't write this. I'm not sure who did.)

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