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the thief of joy

By angela hepworthPublished about a year ago • 3 min read

i want to feel

like i’m better than someone

it’s bad

i know

but can it be

just for a moment

let me compare myself

to one person

to feel better about myself

they don’t have to know me

just let me see them

and feel it

for a moment

then i’ll apologize

and mean it

~

comparison is the thief of joy

and i know it well

but comparison is constant

a persistent dwelling

a forced friend

she sits in my mind like a cell

serving her sentence

25 to life

i wish she would be in my favor

just once

but everyone i see

somehow

is better than me

thinner

maybe

or

prettier

funnier

simpler

richer

smarter

faster

the list goes on

smaller waist

nicer smile

stupider

in a good way

in a way that makes things

easy

in a way that makes things

manageable

like maybe

they’re not going half insane

like i am

like i always am

while i stew in myself

thinking of all the things

i’ve failed at

and my awareness

strives to pluck out my eyes

slowly

with sharp

long

brittle

black

nails

~

comparison is wrong

but so is everything

my heart is flickering

fading

vanquished

it beats for anything

except myself

i feel like a stage

with the lights turned off

cold and anxious under the circle

of a deadened spotlight

i am a course

kicked off kilter

spiraling

spinning

i’ve been spinning

for years now

i think

and i’ve only just realized it

i’ve only just realized

i can scrape at the ground now

to make it stop

~

potential

perhaps the core of all my grief

if i didn’t believe myself

worth speaking

worth writing

worth saving

maybe it would be easier

to lie down

and take it

~

i lied

before

as i tend to do

even still

i can compare myself to others

and feel superior

for a moment

i can relish in that

for a time

i can state the facts

in my head

and they will make me

feel

better

you are thinner than this person

you are younger than this person

you would never do this

or be like that

you would never

you personally

me personally

i would never embarrass myself

like that

i was never that bad

was i that bad?

no way

they’re worse

i’m better

it’s all laughable

the pathetic way

i preen and smooth over myself

only in comparison

to strangers

~

(if i knew them

i’d prefer them

to me

in one way

or another)

~

but having enemies

and rivals

is easier

than connection

judgement

is easier

than trust

judgement

is a coward’s way

and i wear

a coward’s cloak

even when the sun comes out

even when

it scorches

me

~

i want to shed my cloak

and my mind

to pieces

it all feels

too much

life like this

is the thief of joy

thought

is the thief

of life

comparison

is the thief

of accountability

and honesty

and doubt

is a king

upon its throne

~

i want to hang my cloak

up in the closet

and pull it closed

i don’t want to look at it

just for a while

i can pretend

it’s not in there

it’s hard enough

to look at myself sometimes

but there are mirrors all around me

reflecting back a self

i have become so pained to see

darkened hollows of my eyes

that tell stories

i want to shut down

ugly

on the inside and out

i want to change that judgment

to pull open my flesh

and bear my heart to all

let all feel the brunt

of my desire

to be good

and liked

and kind

and wanted

to live

and to want to

~

for the rest of the day

if i can

maybe

just for today

i will believe myself

worth living

Mental HealthFree VerseStream of Consciousnesssad poetry

About the Creator

angela hepworth

I want to erase the tears of all those who trusted in hope; I want them to be left with a smile on their faces.

-Madoka

I’m Angela! I enjoy writing fiction, poetry, reviews, dumb self-indulgent stuff, and much more. Come check me out! :p

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    Written by angela hepworth