You only love me when I let you pull apart my peices

Back when I was a little girl,
If you complimented me,
I would smile and say "thank you.'
I would feel like a princess,
beautiful and bright.
Now,
When you compliment me,
I just look at you,
Brows furrowed in confusion.
My whole world would stop,
suspended in time.
I would feel like you must be lying.

my chest
doesn't scream --
it hums
with a stabbing pain
too polite
to interupt.

my soul
it still reaches
for hands
that no longer
reach back
to me.

I give too much to everyone else,                                                            ­                    
                                                                ­                                                  
I don't save anything for myself                                                           ­                           
                                     ­                                                                 ­                  
so, I end up empty as a
shell                                                            ­                
                                                                ­                                            
resenting the takers & myself as
well                                                             ­         
                                                                ­                                                        
I open my mouth the words come
out,                                                             ­       
                                                         ­                                                                 ­
  I need to please, what's that
  about?                                                        ­                    
                                                                ­                                              
When the time comes to do the
deed,                                                            ­    
                                                            ­                                                            
  I'm overwhelmed if I don't meet their
needs                                                  
         ­                                                                 ­                                      
  Why can't I take, why can't I
receive?                                                         ­       
                                                         ­                                                       
Why can't I feel a little
greed?                                                           ­                   
                                                                ­                                                        
I have wants, I have
needs                                                            ­                      
                                                                ­                                                  
Sure there's a reason deep down inside                                                           ­         
                                                       ­                                                         
  some under lying purpose of why I,                                                               ­                                                      
                                                                ­                                                
don't feel I deserve the pleasure                                                         ­                                                                 ­                                                                 ­                                    
of someone who treats me better                                                           ­                                                 
                                                                ­                                            
Maybe I just need to be
needed,                                                          ­        
                                                                ­                                                
that's why the cycle keeps being repeated

A broken heart is–

a poet's greatest treasure.

What if the question
is older than the answer?
What if time forgets
why it moves,
and the stars
no longer know their names?
What if we speak,
but it is the silence between words
that holds the weight.
The road bends
not to mislead,
but to remind us:
truth is never linear.
A seed does not know
it is a tree.
The stone does not dream
of flight
yet both contain the sky.
I do not search
for meaning,
only the place
where meaning once slept.