It wasn't that you were not enough,
No, dear girl, you were.
You lit fires under your feet and danced amongst the ash,
And still, you felt as though you hadn't bled enough.
But you did, and you will, over and over,
Until the river has bled you dry
And the melancholia has struck.
Soon you'll be a grave of bones and ash.
No one will remember your name, dear girl,
And it's not that you weren't enough.
You were enough, and you are enough, and you will be enough once more.
- gmb
