Cool to Be Cruel

Who was it that decided
It was cool to be cruel?

Who was it that instructed you
To cover up your envy.

With cutting words
Used to feel oh so clever.

Holding your balance
On the pedestal you’ve precariously perched on.

Hoping to tower over
Your item of envy.

They need to be smaller
Small, like you feel when you’re around them.

Small, like you feel.

When you forget how beautiful you are
You can be so very ugly.

Your cutting words
Will never leave you feeling valued.

Self-satisfied
Masturbated, perhaps.

Your ego safely tucked
Behind your manufactured cool.

Maybe they won’t notice
How insecure you are.

You’re more beautiful
Than you act.

It’s a shame
You don’t know.

How your envy leaves you exposed
To what’s behind your performance.

You’re caught up in comparison
And your need to control.

How insecure you are
You’re trying to feel better.

Looking at everyone else
You never see the best in you.

Never getting that your beauty
Isn’t forced into production.

It’s yours
Naturally.

Clever and cool are words
That do not express.

An opportunity for love wasted
Beauty masked.

photo credit: Dori