Enough

I don't know what it is about being in this body.

about having these lungs which keep breathing in,

and choking on the idea that I am not enough.

they say in every marriage,

you will have different versions of the same fight

and I have fought relentlesly

to keep my mind from divorcing my heart,

to keep feeling and reason in the same bed

but it is not enough.

because to know that you are loved and to feel loved

are not the same thing

(I wake up every morning

on the wrong side of one of these truths.)

doubt used to be the unwanted thing

but somewhere along the way,

it convinced me that I was,

something about being in this body,

makes love feel like charity-something i never asked for

but am practically starving without.

(can you tell)

(is it obvious)

I think I am trying to love you the best I can,

trying to stop having different versions of the same fight,

but perhaps it has nothing to do with this body,

but rather the fact that

it keeps going to bed

with the idea that I am not enough.

(what did i think i would wake up next to?)