Reusable
Momma always told me, "don't let then walk all over you."
Why is it so hard to say no? It's shorter than yes, but still hard to be told. I go,
but I can't go for long before I'm reeled back in to be drained some more.
I try to ignore, but it can't be erased, the drained look on my face, I guess,
is here to stay. I just want to help, you just want to hurt. Why exhort
energy, when I can use it for bigger, better things.
It bottles up in my chest, twists in my throat, tumbles in my mind and out my mouth...
...no...