Rely on me,
bleed me dry,
work me to exhaustion
when you have the need.
Then, when the crisis is over,
pin me with all mistakes,
whisper and ridicule
gloating that I’m not wanted.
Why do I let this happen?
Why am I less than nothing?
Fiction and poetry writing, recapturing the muse.
Rely on me,
bleed me dry,
work me to exhaustion
when you have the need.
Then, when the crisis is over,
pin me with all mistakes,
whisper and ridicule
gloating that I’m not wanted.
Why do I let this happen?
Why am I less than nothing?