Broken

I’m broken Man, I’ve been broken for as long as I can remember Last one in, first one out. Kept alive on the bare minimum A slave to the family. To friends. Making sure all needs are met. But not my own. I’m a caretaker. But I’m broken. Pushed and pulled away. Longing to feel good, to feel that warmth. But it only lasts a moment. As I’m cast aside for the next temporary high. I try to fight the cycle but the pull is too strong. It’s a magnet to my desire to be loved without having to give anything. But I’m giving my all. I give to receive. But never receiving enough. But it’s what I know. I’m a fiend for the touch, the rush. But I’m broken. I struggle with my thoughts, how to be fixed. How to let go and leave none disappointed. That’s my issue. I want all happy and none give me the satisfaction. I’m the temporary fix for the lapse in judgment and a hard day. The feel good moment of the day. The satisfier… until I think. And speak. Just then, they know. I want to be the one. But I’m broken. But who would want me? Needing so much and not getting Becoming bitter to the facts in front of me? Who wants that heavy burden, the responsibility? To care…for me. There’s so much wrong, but I’m willing and giving. But who cares, if I’m broken. How can I be whole? Doesn’t someone have to give? Doesn’t someone have to sacrifice? I guess that’s me. But what about the receiving end? Why can’t that be me? Why can’t I have the satisfaction of taking until there’s almost none left? Why can’t I be the one undented and unhurt? Why can’t I be selfish and careless about another’s wants or needs? I guess I can’t because I want to. Man... I’m broken.