Her clothes so tight.
Makeup just right.
She walks down the hall, looking stunning.
People turn to stare, gawking.
Heels clicking, eyes glittering, walking away.
She is fake.
A girl with nothing but wealth.
She is a bitch, the most loved and hated.
Moving and ruining relationships.
Eating away at people who try to get in her way.
And no matter how many times I say I hate her…
I just find myself gawking her as her heels click down the hall.
I am not jealous, I tell myself.
But, I know I am.
She can make herself look perfect while,
I’m just decent.