Is this enough?

I emptied my hands,

gave you an inexhaustible reservoir of understanding,

patience,

empathy,

then the parts of me I swore I’d keep,

poured them into your open palms —

but your grip only tightened,

your hunger only grew.

You wanted my breaths,

wanted my ribs cave in,

the validation that my breaking

was always yours to claim.

I peeled back my skin to show you allegiance,

stitched my own wounds just to stay whole for you,

shrunk myself smaller, softer, quieter,

until I was nothing but an echo in your silence.

And still, you wanted more.

Still, you stood there, untouched,

while I unraveled at your feet,

begging.

I tore myself open,

held out everything raw and bleeding,

whispered, screamed—

Is this enough? haven’t I given enough?

— Lux