Looking "I" in the eye

Am I a security blanket,
Not a woman?
An excuse for a would-be martyr,
Not a love?
Am I an enabler,
Not an inspiration?

I can’t know.
I don’t read minds.
But I do know my own mind,
And know…

I am tired of loving
In exchange for being tolerated.

I, even I,
Deserve to be someone’s dream,
Not just a placekeeper,
Or to stand alone, should that never be.

So, I am groveling on my knees to God,
For the strength to stand.