My heart seems convinced 

That I am a victim.

Been lugging around 

Every loss and every disadvantage

Like a favorite piece of furniture 

That I refuse to part with,

So convinced that these weights

Are just keeping me real

Keeping me grounded,

That they really aren't

Holding me back. 

It tells me

'You'll be happier 

Carrying around 

The narratives 

That make everything taste bland'

That it's truly important 

To keep the shortcomings of others 

In the forefront of my mind,

And convinced that my flaws

Are the truest part of me.

This heart that lies

Tells me that beating myself up

Is the fastest way up

And that I never really needed anyone 

To make it in this life.

Sometimes the hardest stories to unlearn 

Are the ones we tell ourselves.