As I am in a relationship with a wonderful, kind, patient, and understanding man, I often find myself weeding through friendships and past relat
ionships to explain my actions for him. My heart is the kind that want to be their to help people and be who wasn’t for me. Be the things I needed in desperate times. I realize now, though it is hard to admit, that I am often just an ear to hear people out in desperate times. They come to me in momentary notice knowing I will listen and end up using me as a personal crisis hotline. And I began to wonder if God feels this used? This poem reflects my feelings on the subject:
don’t treat me like a lightbulb
light you up
guide your way
use me up and throw me away
i am no trash.
don’t treat me like dust
use as a protectant
and then cringe in disgust
i have purpose.
don’t treat me like a class act
one time acclamation
share to and never listen of friend
i deserve more.
don’ treat me like a bandaid
press me on to cover the wound
stop the bleed
and rip me off when renewed
i am not to be used.
don’t treat me like meat
attached to bone
looking looking seen
no whistles tisks or groan
i am no object.
don’t treat me like a fish
wandering, gliding, oblivious too
be reeled in and out
spayed with a harpoon
i am no fool.
i am no fool.
