Throw up on me

I guess I'm chopped liver, chew me up and spit me out because you don't like the taste of me. It's unreal how you make me feel, like to be needed is something I should erase, because being needed doesn't always have a place. But I guess your teaching me that with your simple actions. You'll tell me things like; " Talk to me regularly like I am your friend not like this is an interview and you have to dress to impress." "Throw away the best version of you. Give me your worse, your nagging, your pain, your drama, your shame." Now you can give me this feeling x10 and make me wish I didn't love it. I know I'm not in love with you, but love you, yes I do, or maybe I just love what you make me do or how you help me better understand myself as a person and not just the help. I am the help, the giver, the slave of being used, and you know that and yet, won't allow me to, it kills my every nerve when I have to stop in my tracks, so everything your giving to me I will have to give it back. Regurgitating your trust issues, your famine of love, your indecision and your guilt, baby Im sorry if I puked on you, but these chunks represent us in ways more than you'd know. Talk to me and send it all flying out like a tidal wave.

You say you trust me but how could you, when you don't trust yourself with the task of accepting love, you push it away like it's a plague so whatever happened in your past I know is tough. You dream laying on your back and wake up holding yourself like you know you needed comforting but couldn't confide in me to deliver more than cuddles as we lay there sleeping. I don't know why it's so hard for you to trust me, because unfortunately I have remained the same through it all, the crumbles and falls, improving the parts of me I feel lost, but connecting the dots as if I knew astrology. Your lack of trusting me is putting me through withdraws, the shakes and quivers because I can't deliver what I feel is the only way I know how to speak my love language, through gestures and just about anything including the way we touch.

When it comes to your scarcity of love, I must say I can tell you are fighting it or even deprived just by the way you touch sometimes. Your great at what you do, but there's very little emotion behind those eyes, very little surprise, baby please tell me why is it you lie awake at night, after what everyone else would call a good time? Your resistance is profound, it blows my mind that you could have so many restrictions on love, it's as if you've never loved or allowed yourself to be. Look me in my eyes and tell me you know what it feels like to be loved, to be loved slow like one of those old school songs playing on a jukebox styled radio. Look me in my eyes and tell me you know what it feels like to be held, to feel like your floating on clouds while breathing someone else's air. to feel like you can't eat when you aren't right with her, to not want anyone else because you could never love another, not because you have to due to titles, but simply because you want to. They say your never asking for too much, your just looking in the wrong place. Have you thrown all of my worries up onto someone, and they've been able to take it or did they just run away? Because that is the kind of love you need, the kind of love you could find in me but will surely miss out on if you can't plant that seed in you that needs to grow capable of changing without resentment or entitlement.

I don't mean to overwhelm you, I'm just thinking.