If most
Is is the highest
Above all
Greater than anything else

Then how is more
Above the thing before it
One step ahead
It's on top too

Is most
The greatest,
Or is more
Greater than most
Making it the greatest?

And then there's the same problem with
Great and greatest....

It's too easy
To say those things
To hurt those feelings
To do those actions

It's too hard
To hear them talk
To not cry
To stay strong

It's too much
To keep going
To hold on
To not give in

It's too soon
But I'll say it:
*Goodbye

You know,  I've never seen you cry

I don't cry

Everyone cries

I don't

I cry all the time

Mmh

You must cry sometimes

*No

Dear Mother,
I'm sorry I'm not enough
I'm sorry I'm not smart enough
Not pretty enough
Not talented enough
I'm sorry I'm not graceful
I'm sorry I'm sensitive
I'm sorry I'm not
The daughter you wanted

Dear Father,
I'm sorry I'm not enough
I'm sorry I'm not a boy
Not a basketball star
Not top of the class
Not strong enough
I'm sorry I'm not perfect
I'm sorry I'm not a genius
I'm sorry I'm not
The child you wanted

Dear Sister,
I'm sorry I'm sad sometimes
I'm sorry I'm not the ideal big sister
Not very pretty
Not silly enough
Not open enough
I'm sorry you got stuck with me
I'm sorry I'm not perfect
I'm sorry I'm not
The sister you wanted

Dear Neighbor,
I'm sorry I'm annoying
I'm sorry I'm not social enough
Not doing what you're doing
Not easily excited
Not happy enough
I'm sorry I'm the only one your age
I'm sorry I'm not athletic enough
I'm sorry I'm not
The neighbor you wanted

Dear Family,
You don't care
But I'm sorry
I'm not enough

Dear Friends,
You don't exist
But I'm sorry
I will never be enough

Dear world,
I'm sorry
I wasn't enough

So I'm leaving
*Goodbye

How is it,
That a mere thought
Cuts deeper
Than the sharpest blade?

And how is it,
That the sight of you
Hurts more
Than the deepest cut?

I had a strong heart
Strong mind
Strong immune system
And a bright soul
I was strong

*How did this happen?

Love at the lips was touch
As sweet as I could bear;
And once that seemed too much;
I lived on air

That crossed me from sweet things,
The flow of—was it musk
From hidden grapevine springs
Down hill at dusk?

I had the swirl and ache
From sprays of honeysuckle
That when they’re gathered shake
Dew on the knuckle.

I craved strong sweets, but those
Seemed strong when I was young;
The petal of the rose
It was that stung.

Now no joy but lacks salt
That is not dashed with pain
And weariness and fault;
I crave the stain

Of tears, the aftermark
Of almost too much love,
The sweet of bitter bark
And burning clove.

When stiff and sore and scarred
I take away my hand
From leaning on it hard
In grass and sand,

The hurt is not enough:
I long for weight and strength
To feel the earth as rough
To all my length.