I want to be someone I’m proud of.
But most days, I don’t even know where to start.
I say I’m 'Ambitious',
but sometimes I wonder if that’s just fear dressed up as hope.
I chase dreams with shaky hands,
telling myself it’ll all make sense someday.
I say I’m 'Anxious',
because I am—
of failing, of being too much,
of not being enough.
My mind is a war zone,
and I live in it every day.
But I say I’m 'Trying',
because I am.
Even when it’s messy.
Even when no one sees.
Even when I don’t believe in myself.
Trying is all I have left some days.
But it’s still something.
And I’m still here.