Note: This poem includes metaphotical language about self-harm. If you or a loved one are experiencing actual thoughts of self-harm, you can contact the Crisis Text Line by texting “START” to 741741.
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I have been pouring from an empty cup for far too long.
They say you can't even do that. "You can't pour from an empty cup,"
but I would slice my veins open time and time again to keep refilling the damn thing if it meant I was still helping.
That's the problem with me, isn't it? I know it is.
I hear the warning signs, parrot them back to others, and at the end of the day, when I have no spoons left to give, I will carve a new one from my bones just to be of use.
About the Creator
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Comments (2)
I feel attacked 😅 I've self harmed since I was 18 to 31 in order to fill up cup and carve out spoons. I'm 2 years clean now but it's so difficult being a people pleaser with saviour complex. Loved your poem!
A hauntingly beautiful and descriptive piece which begs the question, are you ok?