I think about what I bring to the table,
A little too often.
It's become painfully obvious that I don't bring much.
For this reason,
I choose my seat at the table with caution.
It's intimidating each time I sit down to eat,
It feels as if I haven't even neared close to earning my seat.
Everyone around me has something to offer,
But I feel all that I am is somebody's daughter.
I believed this feeling would fade as I grew into my own person.
Over time I wouldn't assume I was an undesired insertion,
A burden.