What I fear the most
Is being not enough for the world.
I tell myself every day:
You are trying. It’s not easy.
Be kind—it’s the mindset.

Alas, I fail.

I didn’t care for my mother.
I don’t understand my father.
I idolize my brother
And refuse to fall for a stranger.

Where will I go now?
Maybe to the mountains.
The fear creeps in again:
The mountains are too big, and I am too small.

I’ll try again.

I’ll go to the sea.
The salt will be enough.
I might catch this wave—no, that wave.
My fingers slip through it all.

I will hold your hand, maybe,
While you show me what’s yours.
I think I’m scared of being the dark,
The same dark you are afraid of.

Darling. Babe. I might call you these names.
I fear I won’t be enough for you.
I hope you’ll help.
I hope you’ll wait.

I hope you’ll have time.