I don’t think I can be this anymore

The helper/the healer/ the one who gets text messages about broken hearts I didn’t break

I feel it too much

It fills my heart with something that seeps down to my stomach and makes it sink / that and a bit of jealousy

I am here/ see me/ feel me

Not for what I can do for you but for who I am

It is not my duty to help anybody but myself

But I do/ time and time again

I find myself wishing I could say

stop

Say

I don’t have the emotional space for my own overwhelming feelings

Yet I am here, Tearing myself apart in search of maybe new places to fit emotions that aren’t even mine.