What I know

My friend texts me and asks about the side of effects of using
I spout off my knowledge like she asked me what is 2 plus 2
I shouldn't know the answer like the back of my hand, but I do
And in this there's a realization I cannot face
A world in which I am not okay
That world cannot exist because there is so much I take care of
People who need me and love me and pets and jobs and household chores
I am the hinge on which so many people hang
And yet, inside, I am spinning
I am no more than a ghost a tourist of my own life
I choose time and time again to feel numb and think nothing can hurt me
But I carry on, just like everyone else
Look at me you wouldn't even know something was wrong
I live I wake I breathe day in day out
But I don't know who I am outside of caring for everyone else
My sisters, who never asked me to, but I shielded them from abuse when we were young and I never stopped being their parent
My family putting me into the middle of arguments to diffuse like I wasn't just a kid
My parents the reason I don't trust the reason I fear people leaving and can't even watch the endings of shows the first reason
I know too much about using and what each thing can do to me to my friends
I never let any of them get hurt I indulge their choice to try
Provide when they are curious
But never give them more than that first time
No one else needs to know what I know