You wish you were what she is. 

You want what she has. 

But you only think of her as a separate entity from herself. 

Something to idolize. 

Some thing to be. 

You are erasing her personality as you strive for her. 

Ignoring her struggles. 

Erasing a dreadful past that has shaped her. 

You see perfection, not humanity. 

Forget her makeup and hair-

Remember her tears and soul. 

You have objectified her as you fought not to be. 

You don't know what she has become. 

She is not a shell, 

An empty incarnation of beauty. 

She is a soul lined up for the ride of life, 

And you push her to the side so you can ignore yourself

To become to one you've ignored. 

Becoming someone else doesn't damage just you. 

An endless race to perfection does end. 

In pain. 

You can her selfish and soulless, 

When you sacrifice her spirit yourself. 

You want what she has, 

And rip happiness away from either hand's grasp.