Her heart was but a loaf of bread,
Rather than cut herself in pieces.
She'd give the entirety of her loaf.
Each grain saturated in nothing but generosity.
The pride of giving your all without want for return.
It was this reason that butter knives and knives alike longed for her most.
To ease themselves inside her and melt away into the tenderness that only she knew as whole.
She harvested herself, knowing only the delight of what it's like to give.
Never knowing the emptiness of greed,
Not knowing the pain she'd soon receive

Be kinder than necessary until there is no reason left for you to be kind; do NOT let yourself become a doormat that people can wipe the **** off their shoes with.
Shower often to wash the weight of the day off your delicate skin.
Floss; it makes your mom proud of your dental exams.
Study only when you need it.
Learn to do your own laundry.
Go to your friend's performances and games when you can.
Keep your room clean.
Say please and thank you regularly.
Stare harshly between someone's brows to make them stop staring at you.
Smile at people in public, but only with a closed mouth.
Carry extra tampons and pads to give to people who may need it.
Plan your day before you go to sleep.
Offer help when you see someone struggling,
But don't offer help if you need help yourself