Don’t tell me to choose myself
When you’ve never held a child,
When you’ve never been the one to stay,
To calm the cries, to walk the miles.

If I chose me, I’d tear apart
The souls who count on every breath,
I’d sever ties, abandon hearts,
And leave their trust to taste like death.

It’s easy when you stand outside,
Without the weight of life that clings,
To cast your words like reckless stones
And think that freedom comes with wings.

Don’t tell me I should love me first
When you’d be the first to judge.
Don’t tell me I’m the reason for
The wounds that ache, the growing grudge.

Don’t say, “If only you chose you,”
As if I could forsake their pleas—
Those who reach with tender hands
And break my heart with subtle ease.

Say instead, they saw my light,
And twisted it to serve their gain.
Say they used my nurturing soul,
And left me hollowed by the pain.

Don’t judge me when I give my all,
And fall apart each time they go.
For if I chose myself, I’d lose
The only love I’ve ever known.