the superlative human being.

knowing i can never be

the most beautiful person in the room

calms me.

*

i walk in

and nothing is demanded of me

except presence.

*

i don’t have to be the smartest either,

or the nicest,

or the one people circle back to

as an example to quote.

*

those titles are traps

with better lighting.

*

they don’t crown you.

they hunt you.

*

every room becomes a test,

every conversation

a quiet audition.

*

so i opt out.

*

not because i am lacking,

but because i am enough already..

because i refuse

to measure my becoming

against an ever-moving ranking

*

built from other people’s

measurements,

passed off as standards

for everyone to accept.

*

i am pretty.

*

not the kind that bends a room

toward silence,

but the kind that survives mirrors,

the kind that changes

with the seasons.

*

i am smart.

*

not in a way that humiliates others

to prove its sharpness,

but in a way that notices patterns

and understands

when the mind needs rest.

*

i am kind.

*

quietly.

*

without hoarding receipts

or overcompensating

to be seen.

*

and that’s the problem

with being “the best.”

*

doing the most

for the gaze of everyone

but yourself.

*

it comes with expectations

that don’t love you back..

a pack of hyenas

waiting for you to fall.

*

they remember every misstep.

they keep score

long after you are tired.

*

human perfection

is a pity show.

bright.

flawless.

unreal.

it pulls us in at first,

yet it doesn’t know life.

it doesn’t know us.

we watch,

tilted in disbelief.

*

the curtains close,

and we are thrust back into reality,

left alone

to face the long hours

of our humanity.

*

so i let it go.

*

i embrace the beauty

of the imperfect, realist show

we all star in,

and let go of

disney,

fairy-tale,

black-and-white thinking.

*

the pressure to compete.

the hunger to know everything.

the need to be applauded

for what was probably

a collective effort anyway.

*

i stop trying to be exceptional

in ways that erases

or taunts me.

*

i choose to be myself

and hold in esteem

the past,

present,

and future me

still unfolding.

*

i stay.

*

unranked.

unmeasured.

ever changing.

imperfect.

still standing.

still trying.

simply living.

*

and slowly,

it feels like remembering

what being human

was supposed to mean

all along.

*

to be superlative,

comparative,

or just

a standalone adjective?

*

a question to return to

when the weight of success

gets too heavy.