In the mirror, I catch my eye,
A tired soul, a whispered sigh.
Days feel heavy, doubts creep in,
Wondering where I’ve been, where to begin.
Am I enough? The question gnaws,
In a world that seems to have strict laws.
Scrolling through lives that look so bright,
While I’m here, wrestling with the night.
Layers of worry, masks I wear,
Pretending strength, but do they care?
I stumble, I fall, I sometimes break,
Hoping for peace, for my own sake.
But in the cracks, light seeps through,
A reminder of the battles I’ve fought, too.
Not every day is a shining win,
Some days it feels like I’m drowning within.
Yet still, I breathe, I wake each day,
Learning to love this messy way.
I’m not perfect, but neither is the sky,
Clouds roll in, but they too pass by.
So here I stand, raw and real,
Embracing the weight, the wounds I feel.
I am enough, with scars to show,
A work in progress, learning to grow.
American You 