Worth
If asked what is the question that haunts me the most and that often keeps me up at night, then it would be : "What am I worth?" To you or to anybody.
Sure you'd tell me that yes I matter, but do I matter "enough?" Do I matter enough to make a difference?
And do my words matter too? Will they be missed?
Will your world go on a bit differently if I was gone? Would my absence be noticed?
Would you remember the way I loved you unlike anyone else, in my own way?
Would there be a void where I once was? And would you try filling it up, or just let it be in my memory?
Would you think of the little things I did, the way I smiled or laughed or talked?
Would there be moments when something reminds you of me and you stand still for a minute and go "Damn?" And would it knock the wind out of you?
Would the sunset, rain, moon, stars, clouds or sky remind you about how I used to pine away after them?
Or the smell of coffee or a new book, that would make you go, "she used to love coffee and books?"
Would you think of me when you come across someone with the same name as mine?
Would you be satisfied with the role I played in your life?
And would I have lived up to your expectations?
But above all, would you think about how I've asked myself these questions just too many times before?
And would you remember how I tried my hardest to write for them the best damned answers I could?
Sure you'd tell me that yes I matter, but do I matter "enough?" Do I matter enough to make a difference?
And do my words matter too? Will they be missed?
Will your world go on a bit differently if I was gone? Would my absence be noticed?
Would you remember the way I loved you unlike anyone else, in my own way?
Would there be a void where I once was? And would you try filling it up, or just let it be in my memory?
Would you think of the little things I did, the way I smiled or laughed or talked?
Would there be moments when something reminds you of me and you stand still for a minute and go "Damn?" And would it knock the wind out of you?
Would the sunset, rain, moon, stars, clouds or sky remind you about how I used to pine away after them?
Or the smell of coffee or a new book, that would make you go, "she used to love coffee and books?"
Would you think of me when you come across someone with the same name as mine?
Would you be satisfied with the role I played in your life?
And would I have lived up to your expectations?
But above all, would you think about how I've asked myself these questions just too many times before?
And would you remember how I tried my hardest to write for them the best damned answers I could?
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