Envious Roots

It's taken me 27 years to truly understand what envy really means.
But lemme tell you I still haven't gotten to the bottom of it but I know where it starts.
It is a weed.
One that you have to time, after time, after time learn to pull out of your earthen body. Where you, down on your knees, have to pray to God and ask that she forgive you and risk telling the Holy Father all that is wrong within you so that you no longer carry it alone.
Why you can’t love as you thought you should.
Why you aren’t in center of the fold.
Why you aren’t the center of the fold.
Why you aren’t their dying breath.
Why they don’t ache from the lost memories of you.
Envy
Is that deep longing
For what you already have, thinking that it looks better in someone else’s house.
Envy is the fog that keeps you from seeing the beauty in the chaos, the swirls of God mixing her spoon in she pot. Letting it simmer.
And you instead grew hungry from the gnawing sensation that you just gotta have it.
Now.
Yesterday.
Ages ago.
Envy is the rushing of what looks like gold
but turned out to really be dust.
A film over the dreams you tossed to snatch someone else’s.
Envy takes a long time to clean out of your house,
but is so easy to let it settle in.