Dio Writes

Not worthy, I think The books on my shelf unopened Wondering at the pretension That I could do anything but fail

This, despite objective truths Never satisfied, this Discordance between the actual And the self I believe to be true

Me, my harshest critic Avoiding my own gaze in the mirror Ashamed, though I can never articulate why

“You are good enough” you say Loved ones, friends, tell me Sincere, but Whispers in my head seeding doubt

But

This is where it stops, this Hatred of self, this Unkindness, these Standards I set so I will fail

I clawed my way out of poverty, I Showed them how it could be done, I Dismissed those who doubted And I did what they said I could not

I am an improbable anomaly Making my own rules and Winning at a game That was supposed to ensure I failed

It is time I act like it.