I Am Enough Poems Novels & Stories

She simply stared at the disturbed earth covering Hazel's grave. "I'm tired. I'm tired of trying to fit into a life that was never built for me." The words came slowly, as though each one had to force its way out. "I'm tired of trying to be enough." I felt something tighten inside my chest, "You are enough." She laughed, "I don't want this anymore. I don't want to spend every day wondering whether I'm smart enough. Strong enough. Good enough. I don't want to stand beside someone who's always ten steps ahead of me."

And it is enough. It is more than enough.

It feels like a giant tangled ball of vines that I can never fix. I feel like I am drowning under a huge wave in the Moonwave Shore. I cannot find any air. I know I need to stop crying. I need to find my scroll and start fixing the plans. But I do not move. I just stay in a small pile on the floor, biting the cloth hard. The words keep running around in my brain over and over again. I am broken. I am not enough. He saw right through me. Now the whole world will see that I am nothing.

Nothing was enough. I needed more. I needed him

The same core I had believed on the phone on Monday morning. "I know that too," I said. She looked at me. "Is that enough?" she said. I sat with the question. Enough was a specific word. It implied a threshold. A line between the side where things were insufficient and the side where they were adequate. I had been thinking about enough since Monday. About what it meant and what it required and whether I was capable of it yet or whether capable was something that needed more time than five days. "Not yet," I said. "But it's a start."

That was enough. That was more than enough. That was everything.

I felt them find the exact place they were aimed at. "So I do not tick your boxes," I said quietly. "That is what you are telling me." "I am telling you the truth..." "No. You are telling me that I am not enough. That everything I do — working myself to the bone, providing, showing up in every way I know how is not enough because I cannot also be physically present every single hour of every single day." My voice stayed steady. I was proud of that. "That is what you are telling me." "That is not—"

She continued to play and sing as she thought of her pack and of her mate “Would you like me if I drank that….If you wanted I could take that….I'll do anything for love…..I don't feel like I'm enough…You can probably see right through me…..'Cause I can promise if you knew me…You would probably walk away….No you wouldn't want to stay…Oh, Mama said gonna be all right…But mama don't know what it's like in my mind….Mama said that the sun gon' shine….But mama don't know what it's like to want to die…I can't carry this anymore…Heavy from the hurt inside my veins….I can't carry this anymore….Wonder what it's like to be okay…I know I'll be fine it's just that…Every time this comes back…Tell my maker

“Was I not enough?” “I hate seeing you like this...” I tell her even if I know she does not hear me right now. “I hate how you think you're not worth it or you were not enough. He didn't see how precious you were, America. He does not see what I see in you and I hope you see the light in you the way I see it from my view.”

Like I'm always on the outside looking in. The smile faltered on her lips, and for once her playful demeanor softened. "Ignas, you have been through so much-more than anyone else here knows. You don't have to be like them to be valuable. You're one of the best healers we have.".She spoke softly, but the words fell short of the mark. "It's not just that," I said, staring at my hands. "I feel like… regardless of what I do, it's never enough. I'm never enough."Tessa leaned over and laid a hand on my arm. "You're more than enough, Ignas.