Good Enough

I've seen you

And I think I might be beginning

to understand
because

unfortunately

it's been hitting me
again and again
like a Freudian slip
on Christmas Eve
that even the Good Lord
couldn't make me
Good Enough

for you.


Tomorrow seems like
3,000 years
and 5 minutes
away
from making me worth while.
And every time you make
or shake
or hold
the moistening relevancy
that destroys everything I've tried to become
it rips apart my ribs
and cracks up
my spine.


You're fine.
And I'm in line
here
waiting
for the chance to be something
Good Enough
for you to blink my way.


You're great
And I'm late
for the
procession
for the chance to be something
Good Enough
for you to breathe my way.


You're there
And I'm lost
on my way
to the final call
for the chance to be something
Good Enough
for you to think my way.


I might have figured it out
unfortunately
Because it keeps hitting me
again
and
again.