I stand before you not as a friend or enemy.
You once regarded me worthy to hold your hand,
as you puked alongside the toilet after a night's drinking.
Who do you think got rid of the foul smell?
It was I who pulled the yellow gloves up my scrawny arms.
The material scratching my delicate flesh.
My allergy ridden bumps I'm embarrassed to show.
You never once thanked me for resting your head on a pillow.
Without my attention, your neck would've been stiff,
you stubborn minded princess wearing your broken crown.
When you woke up, I didn't expect anything, although
a cup of coffee from Starbucks would've been a nice gesture.
You knew the height of my commitment.
I don't know how far I should stand away from you now.
I would've done anything for you, anything had you called.
My name doesn't seem to matter.
Do you remember what we called each other?
You once understood my calling.
It wasn't to chase you after lengthy condemnations and pinching.
My wanting was disguised in your need of me.
There is nothing I can do, not even wait, not even ask
for a more suitable alternative.