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An Open Letter to My Self-Doubt

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You’re that stormy day that keeps all the children
locked inside and longing for a patch of sunlight
to roam around in. Oftentimes, I wish I could just
pack up and leave town, equipped with sunscreen
and a large hat, for a brighter destination, but
every time I see an end to the rain in the distance
new clouds roll in, a never-ending cumulonimbus
that wraps around me like a scratchy old blanket
given by a grandmother that doesn’t even know
the meaning of the word comfort. Maybe one day
I’ll be able to find rain boots sturdy enough to
take me to the store downtown and buy an umbrella.
But for now, I’m afraid you have me beat.



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