Remember- You hung the moon. <3 《》《》《》《》《》《》《》《》《》《》 I speed ran this poem, not sure where this came from haha. Definitely something I'm proud of, which is kind of rare. Please leave feedback in the comments! :D
Do you ever feel inferior, A step or two or ten behind the rest? Like they're wittier, smarter, kinder, prettier, And you're not even mediocre in comparison? You're nearly nothing? Like if you were blessed with their beauty or talent for even just a minute, Lived their life, Then you'd know what it was like to be something incredible? Something worthy? Something gorgeous, extraordinary, strong, brave, more than what you are now? I do. But. . . Do you ever feel like you're enough? That you don't need to be somebody else to be happy? That you're fine- no, better then fine- as is? Do you ever feel satisfied by what you see in the mirror? Have you ever considered that the face staring back at you is perfect? "Impossible. Nothing is perfect. Especially not me." Perfect is subjective, my love. And I think you are. You are perfect in my eyes. No, more than perfect. You're you. Never forget this- You hung the moon.
