Nothing Special

I'm nothing special,
or so I say,
though repeatedly,
you tell me again and again,
how wrong I am
to believe this lie
that I've lived with so long
without wondering why.

I'm nothing special,
I repeat to you,
but you've seen the things
that I can do,
the unfettered scribble
of pencil and pen
that are weaved into worlds
and dreams without end.

I'm nothing special,
I'm content to believe
despite whatever
praises I may receive
from you and others
who feel this is true
because

what
matters to me
is that

I'm
special
to
you.