Yes
I know how lucky I am
Yes
I know how blessed I am
Yes, I know that I should be happy with all the Lord and the world has given me

So answer me this, magic 8 ball
Why aren’t I?
Why aren’t I happy with my body, or my face, or my mind, or my heart
That is unbroken
Still in its box on the shelf
Has never been touched
On the clearance rack hangs my pride, my passion, my care for the person I once sized up in the mirror
But apparently it’s out of style, ragged, unwanted, not even by the hanger it clings to

So answer me this, Siri
Why is no one buying?
Why is no one buying the truth, the life that I am handing out?
Maybe I’m not bright enough or maybe I’m not cheap enough or maybe I’m just so ordinary that I haven’t caught the eye of anyone looking that far down
Below the surface
It’s a scary place, I know

So, Alexa
Play my pick-me-up playlist
You know the songs
The ones that make you feel like you could fly, or write one of your own, for about three and a half minutes
About as long as your confidence lasts
And then back down, with a gradient of words as your chain
They say your whole life is in front of you and the darkness is behind you

Then Ok, Google
What about your shadow and the way it makes your demons seem not so scary because they are shaped exactly like you
Your shadow
That is only fragments of your broken soul that you’ve dropped
Collecting, freezing, waiting
For you to trip
Your shadow
That constantly reminds you you can’t move on
Not completely
Not without the chance of it tugging on your cracking ankles
Cracking just like your faith, just like your securities, just like the air you breathe
Becomes shards of glass that shred you from the inside out
No more calm but fear with every inhale

Yes
I know how lucky I am
Yes
I know how blessed I am
Yes, I know that I should be happy with all the Lord and the world has given me

So answer me this, world

Why aren’t you?