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 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.