I like to tell myself that I’m a loving person,
be inspired to aspire peacefully
like Jesus, Muhammad, and Buddha,
be a giving man with a big heart and a big soul.
But like a C-movie horror flick,
green yucky spores of envy grow onto me
and I end up looking like the jolly green average-sized man.
I do my best to squash the spores
but end up devouring it in panic
so if you wonder why it seems
like I have a fake restrained smile
or my voice pitch is two octaves too high,
I’m just not enjoying the taste of spores too well.
When a fellow artist friend,
who was on my level of reputation,
moves past me and makes something of themselves,
I find I have to make an effort
to genuinely congratulate them.
Green spores on my shoulders.
When an average looking guy friend
gets a hot girlfriend
and not me,
I despise his good fortune
(even worse when I have the hots for her too).
Green spores on my chest.
When a complete douchebag or bitch that I despise
becomes more successful than me,
I choose to believe (or delude?)
that I am better than that trash
and people have yet to acknowledge my brilliance.
Green spores in my brain.
Must get pesticide.
is a powerful