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Beauty is a terrible thing.

Love is a terrible thing.

Jealousy is a terrible thing.

When I see them, I smile, I laugh, and I stare. I stare at their plump lips, sweet smile, clear skin, pretty eyes, thin frame, and natural hair. THEY are beautiful.

There is a piece of me who wants to capture that beauty and label it mine. Pressing my lips against them sweetly, gently; carefully.

There is a piece of me who wants to soak in the beautiful essence and steal it for myself. I want that clear skin, sweet smile; thin frame, natural hair, plump lips, and pretty eyes to be mine. I want all of those things to be features of myself; not FOR myself.

That beauty sneaks into my mind, slowly rotting it from the inside out.

This beauty confuses me, so.