Refucktion.

Sometimes it’s hard to decipher if I’m my own disappointment or theirs. 

Is my lacking.  My failing.  My nothingness. Is it mine?  Or my reflection in their eyes?

Can’t get to that place where everything is okay.

Where I’m okay.

Where I’m enough.

Where this is enough.

I can’t seem to give myself the  permission to be

Me

Somebody

Something

Enough

Happy.

To

Live

Exist.

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