Is it greed or vanity?

Iwatch myself

From praying their names

To praying for me

From giving it all away

To saving what’s left of me

I used to close my eyes at night

And name them one by one

Praying Dad would find some peace

Praying life would treat him kind

Praying Mom would find her way

And leave the hurt behind

Praying my sisters would stay safe

From every danger they might find

And everyone I loved somehow

Would find a brighter day

I asked God to protect them all

Before I asked Him to let me stay

And when my turn would finally come

I’d put my name at the end

Sometimes I’d leave it out completely

Like I was easier to forget

I watch myself grow

From that little girl

Who prayed for everybody

In her little world

I watch myself change

With every year that came

From “God, please take care of them”

To “God, please take away my pain”

And I wonder, is it greed?

Is it vanity?

Or is this what surviving

Was supposed to make of me?

I don't know when I lost her

I don't know where she went

That little girl who gave away

Whatever heaven sent

I watch that little girl

Start forgetting things

Not the names she loved

But what those names once meant

She learned that life can take and take

Until there's nothing left

And every night she tried to pray

With a weight inside her chest

She started asking God for sleep

For peace inside her head

For one more morning without fear

For strength to leave her bed

And somewhere in those desperate prayers

She heard herself say,

“Please let me be okay this time”

And felt ashamed that day

'Cause she was taught to give away

The best of what she had

So asking for a little back

Felt selfish, wrong, and bad

...

And I wonder again, is it greed?

Is it vanity?

Or did life take so much from me

I had to choose me?

Maybe depression taught me

What desperation feels like

Maybe I stopped looking outward

When I couldn't see the light

Maybe I got tired of praying

For everyone to be saved

When I was quietly drowning

And nobody knew my name

So now I say,

“God, please help me.”

And somehow it feels wrong

Like I stole a prayer from someone

Who needed it all along

But maybe she was never selfish

Maybe she was just in pain

Maybe she had spent her whole life

Giving more than she could give away

I watch myself

And I don't know her anymore

She used to pray for everyone

Now she prays behind her door

She used to put herself last

Now she can't give anymore

And I can't tell if that's the wound

Or what the wound was for ....