I don't know what to say about this poem. It resonates a lot with me. The cold keeping you from opening up; it's almost like it's an instinctive reaction to the cold to just hide/burrow away.
Filling other people's cups up with yourself isn't sustainable; it's draining and really taxing on a person. Especially when it isn't returned; there's something to be said about the people who take and take, and never give back, and conversely something to be said about those who willingly give without a seconds thought.
It's hard being vulnerable and it feels like placing a burden unto others when you give them a glimpse into your life and what's troubling you. The crutches you use to cope are temporary at best and you find yourself needing to move on to new ones until they don't work as well, and you can't find anything to abate the feeling.
You also realize that better things are on the horizon, but like life beat you down and you question whether if you can even make it, or if it will even be better.
There's a lot of authenticity in this poem, I think it's best described as a poem born in the midst of a rut, and I feel this poem 100%. You're not alone, and my DMs are always open if you ever need to vent or anything.
Mary Anne, a touching piece that speaks volumes. It's hard when we give and give and nothing is returned to us to give us sustenance. You are absolutely correct, it makes you apathetic and cold. Theres only so many chips at our hearts until there is nothing left to give. You are such a giving soul and there are so many people that will take that soul and abuse it, people can be just awful. Never lose that warmth, it is so much of who you are-hugs-