They tell me I’m talented.
You whisper I’m smart.
They murmur I’ve got this.
You’re happy to hear what I say.
And in this room,
I know you want me here to stay.
So how can my heart still ache so?
Why do I feel like I’ve tricked you all
Into looking up toward a person
Who’s about to fall?
How can I meet so much opportunity
With so much sadness, apathy–
At times even regret?
Do my insecurities fuel an inner fire
To burn even brighter?
Or will I someday find my self doubt was right?
Do we all still have yet to find
I’m just another imposter?
–Written by Sandy Heights