i am not good enough.

Whenever the words are etched

onto the empty pages,

there’s the tiniest

voice at the back of my head, whispering,

This is not good enough.

This isn’t good enough.

When the words sneak

into my mind like a snail

in the rain during Fall,

it beats me

similar to a boxer in the ring

as there are occasional

flashing lights from the crowd

that’s on the edge of their seats.

You are not good enough.

It only comes every once in a while,

echoing

like crows or rosters

at 6 in the morning.

You are not good enough.

You should quit.

Why are you still writing?

You will never be successful.

You should quit.

Who would read your grey-tinted words?

You’re not good enough.

When will your writing ever

dance on the rooftop, glittering

with diamonds and rainbows

as the mouth threw up

the galaxy with illuminating stars?

Your writing will never be good enough.

You will never be good enough.

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