My heart seems convinced
That I am a victim.
Been lugging around
Every loss and every disadvantage
Like a favorite piece of furniture
That I refuse to part with,
So convinced that these weights
Are just keeping me real
Keeping me grounded,
That they really aren’t
Holding me back.
It tells me
‘You’ll be happier
That make everything taste bland’
That it’s truly important
To keep the shortcomings of others
In the forefront of my mind,
And convinced that my flaws
Are the truest part of me.
This heart that lies
Tells me that beating myself up
Is the fastest way up
And that I never really needed anyone
To make it in this life.
Sometimes the hardest stories to unlearn
Are the ones we tell ourselves.