Tonya Fines

To Fill You Up

Filling you up depleted me.  My focus, my energy, my heart, my soul.  I willingly gave up all that made me who I was.  Every spare part, every tiny space and every speck of light I gave up to you, to fill you up with all of that.  And it depleted me.  You feasted on it and depleted me.  And as I became depleted, as I grew tired and weary, you began to resent me. You told me I was weak, soft, pathetic.  When I reached out for a small piece from you, for some hope, for some kindness . . . you snarled and hissed at me from behind dark angry eyes.  You found only faults in the shell of what was left of me.