Sometimes we push.
Sometimes we pull.
Sometimes we mesh.
Sometimes we clash.

It’s a gut feeling that rivers run deep.
Not comfortable, what does it mean?
Like salad dressing of vinegar ’n oil,
spicy and pleasing but not mixing at all.

Loving words sweeping me off my feet.
Melody of love, you made just for me.
Somehow I think my purpose
was to ease your burdens of feeling blue.
I want to be open, loving and strong.
To share whom I am, with no façade.

My fear is not your alcoholic disease.
My fear is not your pocket that’s deep and bleeds.
My fear is your love for me.
My fear is this tug of war I foresee.
My fear is the hardest of heads that I witness,
as I walk on eggshells.

You told me what you went thru.
Can't imagine, your point of view.
So many emotions held back,
spirit, guilt, sensitivity all there.
An ego tall and hard to climb,
with a head that may be harder than mine.

Crazy I am for feeling this way,
envious reactions spew out.
Emotional times, loving you dearly,
curious questions making you tense.
Stories you tell me are cloudy.

Not dealing with me and who I am
leaves me empty, lonely and feeling sad.
You avoid telling me what is true,
my purpose is lost.

I can be strong & vulnerable;
your hold on me is fascinating.
Not knowing where I get these feelings.
Who are you?
Treating me like the wife you’ve left
All comes from my heart.
Will it tear us to shreds?
We’re in a tug of war,
All seems strained.

With finger on a trigger,
my aim has to be calculated,
so as not to kill all the fun.
There’s a need to learn how to pull
or to let go.