Can you feel the color gold?

I was on my third glass of wine

when I saw hope pour through the window.

Maybe it was the wine,

or the hunger in my heart for answers,

for fulfillment,

for a sign that I belonged here,

because I’ve spent 31 years feeling like

I was almost good enough, but not quite.

Smart, but not smart enough.

Funny, but not funny enough.

Pretty, but not pretty enough.

Never enough but always too much.

But when I saw the sun come through the window,

I could feel gold, my own worth,

and I forgave myself.

And I let the sun set on my sadness,

and it gilded my future.

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