Tattered Ribbons

It cuts deep,
Slicing away ribbons of self.
It runs deep,
In the marrow of my bones.

There is no part of me that is mine.
I give it all to you just to feel alive.
There is nothing of you that is mine,
But I feel each part of you like a phantom limb.

I'm ground beneath the mill,
As meal for another day.
I grind away at my worth,
To give joy to others.

If ever you come to me I fear there will be nothing left but tatters of a man best forgotten.