Esteem

I can't imagine what my life would be
Without her in it. What would it entail?
I'm sure in some way I would still be me,
But like a me that's been reduced for sale,
Musty and unused. All of the fire
That burns inside would choke on its own flame
Banking itself til every last desire
Was burnt away. The residue? A name,
A body,  and some habits. But the whole
The me I am or like to think I am,
The present part of my eternal soul
Would be a lesser being,  or a sham.
So since my self-esteem commands, I say
I'm glad she's here, so I am here today.