I will be.
I will not torture myself
with thoughts
of how I am inferior.
There are so many things
that I can do,
and that I can do well, too -
damn it! -
that she cannot.
I have loved
and I have knit
and I have been there
through long nights
and hard days.
And I have been there
to laugh
and to love
in bright gardens
in empty houses
in hot tubs
and sushi restaurants.
This is not
a comparison contest.
She might speak better French,
but I knit a better hat.
Oh, to even continue this list
would make me sick.
Funnier?
She can't be.
I won't let her be.
I need to
let go
of these insecurities
and just fall
renewed
into those open arms.
I'm almost
sick of myself.
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