Pulled

When I close my eyes,

For a moment I am transported

Away from the tug-of-war of life

Breaking free from the pull to give

And give and give until I am nothing

But a vessel of snatched offerings.

Dear soul, the only peace I know,

Is when I lie awake blissfully dreaming

Of what it means to give and receive back

The way you taught me to do,

And for a moment I am myself, alive,

Until I feel the pull begin again.

Published by Quietest Poet

Writer, mother, counselor, flower gardener, recipe seeker, and Netflix lover.

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