My eyes are not green, but I am a monster and full of envy.
I envy those who have more than I, be that money, knowledge, power, or courage. I envy those who surpass me and my accomplishments.
I envy the young and despise them for living as I did not. As I do not. I envy the young for never growing older.
I envy my youth as I watch it disappear and hate my inability to change, it or myself.
I envy my dreaming self for being free and perfect in all the ways I am not. I envy him for being able to play in the unmelting snows of yesteryear. I envy him for communing with ideals while I’m stuck with waking reality. I envy him for being oblivious of me and happy while I am all too aware of who and where he is. I envy him for never having to wake up.
So I weep for what I never have and lose.