I’m not as good as you think. I’m not a gourmet meal from Chima or chocolate from Godiva. I’m a Chick Fil A opened on a Sunday, I’m a Big Azz margarita from Mad Mex after a long day at work, I’m your broken iPhone X screen after you opted not to get insurance. I’m not a Beyoncé album; I’m not lemonade, I’m that two-sided cassette tape you made, back in 6th grade, recordings off the radio, mixed and mashed up, a keepsake of sorts that you would never pass up. I pray to God on a once a week basis. I fell from grace, gracefully when Easter Sunday fell on 4/20; I apologize to the people in the church who had to smell the tree. Sometimes I believe I was put on Earth for a reason; sometimes I wish I could just disappear with the seasons.