What is it like to be me?

She asks 

Envy lining her words.

She's talking about the test

That I aced

The quiz

I defeated

The teacher

Who loves me.

I laugh and smile and joke at her

(and yell and cry and frown inside

but that doesn't matter of course)

and say with burning humility

"You'll never know will you?"

(is it really sarcasm?)

Because I am an actress 

Academy-award winning

If I had been white and pretty and Jennifer Lawrence

( but I'm not - I'm just a naive little geek).

I laugh because she laughs and I like making people laugh

Because inside I am never laughing

There is dread there always 

That someone will see me

And run away screaming

So I create walls of happiness and positivity and sunshine and butterflies

Ignoring the storm inside.

"What is it like to be me, then?" you ask

It's being dissatisfied by success

It's wanting to kill myself with failure

It's being lonely

(so so lonely)

Because I have no one to whisper my secrets to

And I push away everyone who tries.

What is it like to be me?

Do you really want to know?