(I don't really ever write anything that resembles poetry, but I'm feeling especially emotional right now, so I thought I'd give it a shot. It's kind of cathartic, in a way. Maybe I'll do it more.)
i'm a carafe pouring into water glasses
of those whom i love and cherish
i give them all of me
in hopes that it will hold together
the bonds that i hold dear
so i pour
pour
pour
until my hand hurts from holding out the jug
and my fingers shake from the effort
but when will they pour back into me?
i'm cracking from the lack of moisture
and i don't think i have
any water left to give
i watch those i've poured into
pour
pour
pour out
into other people around them
the refreshment of their souls evident
from miles away
but no one pours back into me
people are moving away from me
so i guess it's worth it to them
to schedule others in
to make time
to pour
pour
pour
into other friends
maybe they have more to offer
than i ever will
because no one is pouring back into me
i look towards the people
who i've given the most to
and i cry out
'is there any left for me?'
but they simply smile like all is well
as they empty themselves into others
and no one ever pours back into me
but my skin cracks when i smile
and sometimes i think that maybe
just maybe
every compliment i've heard was forced
in an effort to get me to shut up
and keep pouring
pouring
pouring
into everyone else who isn't me
and won't ever pour into me
so that they can be full to pour into others
but no one
no matter how i look
no matter what i try
no matter what i say
no one is pouring back into me
