My love

I feel like no matter what, I am going to get hurt. I don't know what's wrong with me, I don't know why I am filled with so many emotions, I don't know why I need so much. I have so much love to give. I am filled with it, it's leaking from my pores. I want more than anything to find someone to shower with my affections, someone who wants to be showered with my love, someone who wants to shower me with what they have- although I know at this point no one has as much love to give as I do. I feel my body welling up with emotions that at one time I assumed as confusion, hate, sadness. But now I see that all along what's inside me swaying like a large field full of wheat, running like a waterfall taller than the Empire State Building, is love. Love that has been sitting dormant inside of me for as long as I can recall. Love that won't expire, but that grows volatile. If it wasn't for this love taking my body hostage, I would be okay. I would never hurt, I would never expect anything from anyone, I would never try or assume or care. If it wasn't for this love I would be happy. And I'm seeing it as a curse, something that I want nothing more to give, but in itself is preventing me from sharing. For years I have been conserving, hoping, trying, only for all hope to be squandered in the end. The love inside of me is like a raging sea, that is confined to a bathtub. The love inside of me is like a rocket ship equipped for outer space, but Is launched into the dirt instead. The love inside of me is a black hole, that is consuming and abusing me, that I will never seem to detach from. Without it I would be nothing, no one. My love is my identity. But with it, I am a coward, I am weak, I am useless. Like a machine who can't do it's job, I belong in the trash. It's not the love inside of me that is faulty, it is me.