To him, I was never enough
Not good enough for his friends
But pleasant enough for his mom
Not good enough to take out to dinner
But had enough money for Domino’s

You see, he liked keeping it quiet
Playing with my hair
and touching my wallet

And though he never asked
I always offered
maybe he would want me more
I’d be enough
Enough for him to hug me
or simply just
hold me
Enough for him listen when I
Enough for him to look at me
not down at his
always untied shoes

He did fall a lot . . .

To him, she is enough
and maybe she was always enough
Enough for him to leave me
and enough for him to let go

But it will never be enough
for me to hold on
Because I have done enough
and maybe, I have had

You see, I’m not blaming him for the reasons why I hurt myself.
And blame was never the name I wanted to give him. But the hurt
that he has left me with, it’s going through my strength, and to ashes
is where I’m going. I don’t know how to being okay. Last night, at 9:10,
I realized that I am good for nothing. And all I know is how to hurt myself
and I have come to realize that as much as I may want to stop, I may never.

No one wants the hurting, sad, scared girl sitting in the back.