sometimes i feel like a commodity.

like every woman before me, i am something to be had. something to possess.

i am someone who gives and takes care.

i am the conductor who guides every note and rhythm of a shared life that doesn’t feel like my own. the harmonies of everyone else’s wants and expectations are deafening, crushing the soft melody of my cries of _who is going to take care of me? who is going to consider me? what about what i want?_

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instead

it’s

“when will you give me grand babies?”

“i can’t figure this out, can you do this for me?”

“what are you getting dad for christmas and can it be from us too?”

or walking into a home that’s not been abandoned, but simply left to rot until i cannot take it anymore. or bills left unpaid and blamed on me when i heard “i will pay this” verbatim from the lips of one who vowed to consider me.

so

i

just

do. it. my. self.

because how can i tell a grown man

_do you not see the jelly stains on the counter, surrounded by days old crumbs from meals i was not present for? or the laundry pile overflowing?_

_how do i not make the dust that is gathering on the walls sound anything but trivial? how do you stand particles of dirt sticking to your feet when you cross the kitchen floor?_

_what possses you to stay quiet when the dog food or the eggs or the toilet paper is almost gone - when you were the one who used the last roll or crack the last egg._

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maybe i am simply an enabler. maybe i am the issue. that i need to be more firm. not as much of a pushover.

but i am so tired of communicating with brick walls and half present stares. i am tired of of coordinating and _taking. care. of. e v e r y t h i n g. but myself._

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the worst part is i know if i were to choose myself i’d be met with glares of hurt or annoyance, or be told “well i didn’t know” when the answer was staring them back in the face. that i’d be seen as an incompetent wife or a woman who doesn’t value family.

i am to give away every piece of me until there is nothing left. it is expected of me to create from nothing and then give it every last shred of love that i’ve tucked away for myself.

i am just. so. tired.

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