All I ever wanted was to be good enough.
I don't have to be the best and If I was put to the test,
I just want to be labeled as-
"Good enough."
I don't know why my mind alters my thoughts,
Throughout the day and over time,
Changing my perspective of myself until it feels fine,
Accepting the facts that are presented before me.
That I am not good enough.
When I tell myself I am good enough it feels as if I am lying,
Because something in me,
Something deep down inside,
Enjoys the pain like a drug, and they love to feed their high.
And the pain is so deep, I feel it in my heart,
So when I look at myself in the mirror, I begin to tear myself apart.
Wishing I didn't exist,
Wishing I was never born, while I tell myself I'll never be missed.
Until fists are clenched, and I punch my reflection,
Trying to destroy the image I see.
Redirecting the pain into something physical, so my heart can be free.
As my hands bleed profusely,
I dip my finger in the pool of blood that lays before me.
And I begin to write the last words I will ever see.
"I am not good enough."
