What do you think of this poem?
“I tried to fix everyone so I wouldn’t have to feel my own loneliness. I poured myself out, hoping someone might pour back in. But the more I gave, the emptier I became. It was disorienting — the ache of being seen but not truly known. Eventually, I stopped. I sat in the stillness. And I felt the hunger beneath all of my helping. That’s when I learned — rescuing isn’t love. Presence is. So I began again, starting with myself.” — Mary Oliver
Thank you maryoliverofficial
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