Am I really the good person I believe I am?
Or have I simply become fluent in excusing the parts of me I would condemn in someone else?
Have I simply become skilled at forgiving my wrongdoings
before anyone else gets the chance?
Do I call it wisdom when it is only convenience?
Do I call it honesty when it costs me nothing?
I have called my flaws "being human,"
and my silence "keeping the peace."
Perhaps my kindness is selective.
Perhaps my patience has conditions.
How many people are still holding grudges against a version of me
I've already outgrown?
I have judged hearts using actions,
yet begged to have mine judged by intentions.
The mirror has never argued with me.
It only returned the face I was willing to see.
So today,
I ask not to be called good,
but to be shown
where goodness in me
still has room to grow.

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