It wasn’t you.

It wasn’t ever you.

You feel so lacking,

so somehow not enough.

Third child of five,

Lost in the crowd.

Invisible, just one more kid.

Stairsteps, I heard us called.

The Smart One, at least.

She did do that for you.

Not The Pretty One.

Not The Artistic One.

But The Smart One.

Hold onto that.

It will serve you well.

Hold on also to your books, little self.

They are your lifeline.

You will grow, little girl.

Know that you are worthy of the world.

Believe in the goodness of your dreams.

She was wrong, little one.

She was wrong.