Empty

I picture us as glasses
Equally filled
Then me unto you
Myself I spilled.

Enamoured I was
In seeing you satiate
It brought me joy
To see you substantiate.

Always giving
I continued to pour
I permeated you
More and more.

One desolate day
I realised I was empty
I was bone dry
Whilst you had plenty.

But it was too late
I was incomplete
I had lost myself
And you had gained me.

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