When somebody makes me feel less than,
Says I’m too much can’t, not enough can,
There’s a fear that jellies my thighs,
And my heartbeats double their size.
My essence of soul gets lost
As my fingertips turn to frost.
And I scrabble to save my self-esteem
As it’s chased by monsters in my dreams.
My sense of self loses all its shape,
My presence shrivels like a sad old grape.
As I creep away, full of blame and gall,
The shivers of shame make my skin cells crawl.
I feel nothing of worth, my confidence kicked,
My value rusted, my optimism pricked.
I retreat to a cave, all dark and dank,
Knowing I’ve only got myself to thank.
But at my core there’s a flicker of flame.
Really, this time, is it same again?
Will I let them all tread
On my bowed, mournful head?
Or will I rise from the wreck of this feel-sorry stuff
And say to the world: “I am enough!”