“I Know, But Still…”

I know I’m fine.
I know I’m smart.
I know I turn heads
when I walk into a room.
I know the power I carry.
I know the softness too.
I know how to smile
when everything inside me is shaking.
I know how to act like nothing ever touched me.

But still…

I doubt.
I overthink.
I replay shit that already broke me
just to see if maybe it was my fault.
I wonder if I’m too much,
or not enough,
or both at the same time.

I flirt like I’m fearless.
I laugh like I’m not hurting.
I say “I know”
when they tell me I’m beautiful
but deep down I’m asking,
would you still think so
if you saw the mess I carry?

The part of me that didn’t leave,
that didn’t fight hard enough,
that stayed quiet,
that smiled
just to get it over with.

I know I didn’t deserve it.
But sometimes I still feel like I did.

Sometimes I feel hollow.
Sometimes I feel numb.
Like my body isn’t mine,
just something I keep moving
to make it through the day.