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This feeling keeps building up, although I know it’s wrong,
These thoughts keep invading my mind.
Fear of missing out,
That’s what they call it.
The fear that I am forgettable, and not an important part of people’s life.
That I am replaceable and just a convenience.
That’s how it feels when you don’t think to invite me to hang out,
Invite me to join in on the fun,
As if I am incapable of even having fun.
Then again, it does seem like I am not capable of having a good time.
What is a good time?
How is it had?
How is it done?
How do I become,
Someone who is to have fun?
I feel insignificant,
And it feels awful.
Like a werewolf transforming,
A sudden rage comes over me ,
Taking over my rationality,
Making me dry-heave,
Making me sweat.
Like a werewolf transforming,
Making me become animalistic,
Making my body cave in on itself.
This is that feeling of jealousy.
The green-eyes giant.
The one that turns you from friendly Ito volatile.
And all it takes is a simple invitation,
To keep this transformation at bay.