You used to be my rock,
you were my anchor to the ground.
These days you’re still my rock,
you are a weight that holds me down.
You used to be my comfort,
you held me tight when Bryer died.
These days I beg your comfort,
to soothe my battered, broken pride.
You used to give me strength,
during my darkest, weakest time.
These days I waste my strength,
on all the eggshells I must climb.
Enough is enough.