Gold Star

Verse 1 I made the bed, I paid the bills Answered emails, smiled at Jill Did my breathing apps, skipped the bread Still feel like a ghost in my own head Said the right thing at the wrong time Put a hashtag on my borderline Told my therapist “I’m thriving” Then stared at the wall till 9:59 Chorus Where’s my gold star for staying sane? For not torching this suburban cage I held my tongue, I held the door Held it together on the Target floor I didn’t scream, I didn’t cry Just watered the plants and watched them die So where’s my gold star — or at least a snack? I’ve done my part — now I want it back Verse 2 I bought kale, it wilted fast Ran three miles — got a panic attack Said “I’m fine” on four Zoom calls While wondering if I exist at all I journaled twice, did self-care wrong Lit a candle that smelled too strong Got ghosted by my own ambition Now I just vibe with mild suspicion Chorus Where’s my gold star for not exploding? For still replying “That’s so funny!” I bit my lip, I bit my pride And I didn’t even trauma-slide I washed the dishes, made the bed Did not reply to what he said So where’s my gold star — or a one-way trip? Someplace where no one gives a— Bridge They said I’d bloom, I just got tired Said I’d thrive, now I expire Softly, at 3:12 p.m. While shopping for soap and existential Zen Final Chorus Where’s my gold star for playing nice? For aging like a Pinterest wife For all the times I didn’t snap Just smiled while life tapped out a trap I didn’t scream, I didn’t ghost I kept it cute when I needed most So pin it on, right on my chest — My gold star for this beautiful, burnout mess