I wish I was born without a Jiminy Cricket on my shoulder. People who don’t count on him often get what they want in life. They blame others for their incompetence, but hey, it works out well for them. It is never their fault anyway.

How big do my disco balls have to get before I can step on others? Lose my caregiving nature of ripping every piece of my dress until it’s shredded to rags. I shall dress in onyx when I kill pink self, not to mourn that part of my soul, but to forget that I, the strawberry milk with whipped cream, sprinkles, and a cherry on top, ever existed.

The sweet angel that prevents me from getting everything I desire insists that the rightful path is forged when you choose kindness over charismatic poetries that aim to please the wiser men, serenaded by my sweet cries disguised as witty laughter.

«It’s just business, honey.»

«It was a management decision.»

«You are amazing, and I know you’ll do great things in life.»

«You’re being too bossy.»

«It’s not you, there just isn’t enough budget to keep you on the team anymore.»

«Two masters? That’s impressive.»

«You’re overqualified.»

«You’re underqualified.»

«Sorry, we’re not taking any risks.»

The best bow I’ve ever taken was after enunciating the line «I am okay,» when I absolutely was not. Stole the bouquet and brought it home, because I am conscious that I deserve more.

Still, I am not courageous enough to play the role of «I am enough.» I doubt every step, don’t know what to do with my arms, and the words don’t seem to flow as when I downplay my value to the oh-so-wise audience that never makes a mistake. Accountability is all it takes.

I acknowledge that important people have spoken my words, that change has happened all because I sacrificed my youth to the people who serve the people.

What am I supposed to do with this never-ending knowledge of politics and social media trends? Lawyers and marketers fear me because of my split personality. My psychologist is in disbelief when she notices my obsession with the word yes, even when the clear answer is a plain no.

Why can’t I be as soulless as the rest? I see how fine they are. I cannot wish them any harm, because that’ll never be who I am. The Bible has taught me too much, and I understand.

I don’t fight with God anymore because I trust He has a plan.
I am what unsettles the wolves as my lamb skips through the fields of lavender. I may be at my weakest, yet terrifying descent, but I weave the flower crown as I chant repeatedly, «I am more than enough.»