In my culture we have a word.
Nazar.

When a skilled person is in the spotlight
The envy and ill wishes of others
Will become your downfall.
When I learned of the English word
Hamartia, I knew instantly what mine
Would be.
My fatal flaw, my bold imperfection.
I flaunt my success.
And hold my head with pride.

Some say it's merely folly,
When you have had nothing,
But your own success
To prove your worth.
To validate your existence
To show that the space you take up
Is rightfully your own.
But every so often there's a doubt
Am I really worthy of their envy?

I asked you to stay.
We both know you shouldn’t.

But you do.

And the next time I’m icing my bruises,
I’ll remember I asked for this.

I want to be first,
The ‘best’.
I want to be chosen
When it’s me or them
With no hesitation.

Yet, ‘I am not enough’.
4 words. 1 fact.
I am not good enough to
Be loved, to be
Envied.

I am and will never be
The one they thank God for.
Or the one who would be
Fought for,
Because I. Am. Not.

Enough.

I always cry too hard,
Strive too far,
Reach too high.

I always work too hard,
Love too much,
Cry myself to sleep.

I’ve always gone above and beyond,
That is the life of an overachiever,
After all,