I love life.
Or at least I used to.
I mean, I think I did.
When I think back to my childhood, it’s just mixed feelings of,
being smart and successful and helpful,
but all of that backed by feeling worthless and never good enough.
It didn’t matter how many awards I had, or what my grades were,
I’d always be second best, because there was always someone as number one.
And I wasn’t that one.
I am never number one. Hell, I’m never the one.
I’m the stepping stone so people can become their greatest potential,
all while I’m left in the rubble, piecing myself back together,
because I’m just never,
good enough.