What’s Left?

Sometimes I feel like I am constantly breaking a piece off of myself,
Ready and willing to offer it up to anyone,
Anyone who will catch my eye the right way,
Or pull on my compassion,
I find it hard to stand in my conviction and say no,
Battling my guilt and feelings of letting others down,
So I swallow the pain and break a piece off,
Giving them what they need,
But what I have come to realize,
Is that when there is nothing left of me,
Merely skin and bones,
Who do I reach out to for respite?
Who offers to me?
What is left of me?
Dec 2021- R1