desultory

nothing helps me or it would if I allowed it.

It's always been cleansing for someone else, never worrying about myself.

worried about my success through the eyes of another,

unclear on how to approach my own life I sit waiting. . .waiting for permission. . .waiting for acceptance. . . waiting on me.

too afraid to believe,

be loved,

just be.

too afraid to be something that sets me apart I think to myself surely there is someone more capable of being me.

take three steps forward and four steps back,

I bring myself less than I deserve; approach myself with arms open, full of promises yet arrive empty-handed.

wandering through life striving for immediate gratification rather than long-term satisfaction,

desultory living. . . I am aimlessly hoping I land somewhere, anywhere that I need to be.

breathe in and remind myself I am already exactly where I am supposed to be; take two steps forward.