During my burnout
Was the clear awareness of how ungenerous I became
With my attention
With my time
If I felt that everyone wanted a piece of me
I would curl my fingers around the meager resources of sanity and silence
And I wound dread any interruption.
What hurt most was my greed for rest
I was not generous anymore
And I felt alien
I did not like myself
It made me small and trapped
Generosity begets joy
Freedom and abundance
Oh, the burns of exhaustion
I now name and detach from
Let them peel off like scabs
let the new skin glisten in the sun
Soft and tender