(enough) setraline

Brianna Le / V Mag at UVA

she doesn’t listen to you.

she doesn’t want to listen to you, or to anyone, 

because she’s right in that 

she’s always wrong and she’s never right and she’s never enough and she’ll never be enough and she’s too much and she says too much and too much is enough to say that enough is enough.

yet she’s here in your arms, begging for something, anything, other than the truth, the truth she’s lived by for years. she flails as tears pour and snot leaks as her emptiness does too. she tries to grasp for air,

a fetus, defeated, 

asking

why am i never enough

a question that you never have an answer for because 

it’s never good enough and it could never be good enough because she’ll never be convinced she’s good enough and maybe you aren’t good enough for her and maybe she really isn’t good enough for you,

but you still try this time for an answer

and this time your answer is a question

and you ask

good enough for what?

it’s a simple question that stops her from repeating her truth,

her prophecy, her destiny.

She considers your words and says 

you.