Do more. Be more.

Be better.

But we’re never enough.

And too much.

We’re worthy

of love and of respect.

If only we could see it

in ourselves.

If only we believed it.


Instead, we hang onto old versions

of ourselves. We change our name,

our hair, our address. But we feel

our old self hiding in the back of the

closet, under the bed. And we

tell ourselves our old stories.


Do we ever really change?

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