What does it really feel like,
To be enough?
To feel happy in my own shoes,
And not wondering about my own self worth.

Everyday I question my actions,
Replaying every scenario in my head,
Wishing I hadn’t done this or that,
Wishing I could have been better.

People don’t make it any better,
Stepping on me to get what they want.
They tell me it’s for my own good,
But is my demise really what you want?
I’m trying my best you see,
And I’m sorry if that isn’t enough.
I know I make terrible mistakes,
But that doesn’t make me a waste of space.

I just want to feel Enough,
Not necessarily perfect.
I just want to be appreciated,
Not weighed down or depreciated.
I try my best, I really do,
And it kills me that you aren’t happy,
That you still want more,
Not quite sure if I can do it,
I’ve already broken myself,
By going beyond my limits.

Since I can’t be enough,
For anyone else,
I’ll be better for myself.
Start doing things for me.
And maybe someday you’ll realize,
My true worth.
But until then,
I’ll focus on making myself happy first.