You want my approval ;

I know that you do.

You keep trying to get me

to admit I love you.

--

You’re my little sister—

how could I not?

But I know that that’s something

I don’t say a lot.

--

I always intend to,

but it never sounds sincere,

and so I just decide not to say it

for another whole year.

--

You complain when our parents

compare you to me.

You hate that I got straight A’s

and you made B’s and C’s.

--

What you never understood

and I could never say aloud

was that I was jealous of you

and your ability to deal with a crowd.

--

You’re not as self-conscious as I am,

that’s true.

You just stand up there and say

whatever you want to.

--

My college education

may have been practically free—

while you were struggling to bring

your math grade up to a D—

--

but at least you had friends

to whom you could complain.

I had only my writing,

which so wasn’t the same.

--

You hung out each day

of the summer with friends

while I was wondering how all

of my friendships came to an end.

--

You have 77 friends on Facebook;

I have 24.

Then again, when it comes to friends,

you’ve always had more.

--

Don’t be made when I brag about my grades,

‘cause they’re all I’ve got going for me.

Just be happy with who you are

because that’s all you’re ever going to be.

--

Don’t ask me to say that I love you

because I won’t.

But also don’t think I hate you

because I definitely don’t.