Mr. Wentz = envy

I hate how well you write.
Your lyrics are music and my words
in comparison are a 5 year olds,
trying to seem smart.

I go back over my old work
and then I read your thoughts
and suddenly I'm looking up at fireworks,
waiting for my spark.
I'd love to meet you.
Not just to say that I've met you.
I want to claw my way into your mind
to see if it's anything like mine;
a maze of thoughts..
Do we both think in rhymes?

The only thing I've ever written that's good
I sold to my blog and tumblr and the devil himself...
I'm sure its out there somewhere
as someone else's work.

I try to imitate you because you're what
initially inspired me to be whatever the hell this is..
but.... "Writers keep writing what they write"..
Right?

I am nothing but mediocre,
you make me make myself sick.

I hope you're happy,
living the life I want to live...
and you're so damn miserable.
I would give anything to be in your
oh so stylish shoes,
and you'd give anything
to be a goddamn normal human being.

Look at the way you think!
You're not normal!
I'm not normal!
We're not normal!

Fuck.