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...

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