you've got your life together
your perfection
oozing from every action
you're in bed by 10
having finished all your work
impeccably, of course
and you look like the kind of hallucination
I'd want to have as I was dying

and I can't figure out
why I can't do the same
but more than anything I'm afraid
that it confirms what I always knew
I'm not good at anything
enough
to deserve you