I’m terrified that my proclivity
Is intense and hollow jealousy
Why else would, deep inside of me,
I feel these claws of some painful thing?
You are beautiful, friend, and I am afraid
What if I turn out to be not enough?
Your eyes are brighter, you’re wonderfully made
Who here is the better of us?
Certainly everyone would choose you,
Or her, or her. The improvements increase.
I cannot seem to grasp the truth
That no one can be compared to me.
I am me, and that girl is she
There is no almost, no in-between
If our souls share no commonality-we are wholly unique, as He declares it to be-
Then why should I stagger with insecurity?
Precious Lord, give worth to me.
I am found in You alone.