Good Morning, Fallible (Freewrite)

I wake up desiring to live intentionally

sometimes forgetting I already have the capacity to

that goals are different than wishes

and potential will cuddle with your dreams

but it don’t keep you warm at night

I wake up desiring to be phenomenal

but 15 minutes of sleep and a dose of mediocrity

taste so tempting on insecure lips

it is morphine for the intimidated soul

I got

missed calls from failure inquiring if I’m drunk yet

because I have one billion reasons to remind myself

of geographical lapses in perfection

ditches in my landscape

cavities of mistakes that feign depth

and a landmine for a heartbeat

living here is dangerous

Loving me is life or death

I wonder

If the epic in me is just a daydream

or if she just cowers wearily

in a hidden corner of my being

cause she aint

seen daylight

in a while

I must remind myself

must remind myself

That I am fallible

and I must love me anyway

I wonder constantly if I am amazing only in abstract

but not functionally tangible

I don't want to be touched only in theory

I fear

I am the equivalent of a child’s fairytale book

lost in the projects of Providence

Beautiful on paper, but no match for concrete

like a gust of wind to fairy dust

when the darkness of reality hits

There are seasons where I feel like

I only value myself by accident

traipsing into confidence on happenstance

tragedy

is when the love you release

says return to sender

and you don’t know where to put it

tragedy

is loving others for exactly who they are

but feeling like affection is a foreign language

when you speak kind words to yourself

Google translate doesn't work for that. 

I tried.

My self esteem is starting to look like blurred vision

feel like static

sing like white noise

sing 

like white noise

is my voice just a collision of sound waves clashing

waves crashing

drowning

in an ocean that I taught others to swim in

My holiness has holes in it some days

I pray

my purpose doesn’t leak through

I fear

I am a grand perception and a good idea

that sounds great on paper

but may never live

Maybe I am Angelou’s unwritten poem

Maybe I am the ink that stained Langston’s

fingers

but never

his paper

I must remind myself

God loves me on purpose

must remind myself

That I am fallible

and I must love me anyway

Challenge Accepted.