I'm not much.
I don't know how much I have to offer.
I cook.
I clean.
I'm always thinking of you,
And things I could do
To make you smile.

Whether it be food to make
(Which always seems to fail)
Or books to give
(At least it gets some reaction)
Or, sadly, ***.

And that one is the one that eats me up inside.

Because I crave ***, but only with you.
And I use it as a tool
To validify myself.
Because I'm not pretty
Or worthwhile
Unless I can serve a purpose.

People say you deserve the love you try ao hard to give to everyone else.

They also say that if you expect the same from people that you give, you'll always be disappointed.

I guess the point is, I am only valued for as long as I am useful.