Cistern; Part One

I never thought much of myself, just kept taking life as it goes
Poured it all out for my friends and sipped on dregs
But when I was thirsty, nobody ever offered me a drink
I never stopped to think
Hey, maybe I should save me some for later.
I blindly let my subconscious be dictator and attribute their demeanour
To mean
Maybe I don’t deserve to drink at all.
I bore holes in my flask just to eek a little bit more out
And when people poured compliments they’d seep through with
“They don’t mean that”s and “that’s not that special anyway”s.
For all the love I’ve poured out, I’ve never taken into account the value of the vessel.
Years later it’s a shallow mess.
Still functional, but it works. Always used to pouring,
Never to be filled.
So when I asked to fill a glass and she said no,
I shattered to splinters instead.
Without pouring, what else do I have?

[Photo credit to]