Again I'm rattling
my tin cup.
Begging John for affection,
feeling
I'm dying from lack
of love from him,
I'm shriveling from lack of interest.
The coins he drops into my cup
are less and less all the time.
Last night it was a penny.
He used to fill my cup up high,
overflowing with big, generous silver pieces of passion and feeling.
Now I have to wait
while he dips into the seams
of his pocket
just to come up with a penny -
maybe.

Please forgive my obsession.
Please forgive my inappropriate behavior, I must look like a child
having a temper tantrum.
Now we're reduced
to just throbbing neuroses,
my ugliest part tickling bad.
If you would only
hold me and love me,
I'd quiet down
like a crying baby,
but you won't -
you're running
and putting up walls
all over,
and the harder I try
to reach you,
the higher the walls.
You throw me a piece of food
over the walls,
I swallow the morsels
and they fuel me
into enormous energy to charge.
I'm scaring you away
and I don't want to.
I love you.
I'm sorry.
Tears brew in me.

Colorful ribbons of feelings
woven into wanting you.
My biggest crime it turns out
was wanting you.
I had cleared aside
time and a clearing
for us to find a house.
Chopped down trees
and cleared away dead branches.
I thought you wanted this too,
but you came to the clearing
and ran off.
What a tremendous hole it made in my heart,
you didn't want to nest with me.

I'm unable to darn back together this hole
on a glass bobbin
1 ike m.t mother use to do.
Now a days
when there are holes in socks the socks get tossed
right out into the wastebasket. It's easier to mend little tears than big holes.
I wish you had let me mend
a little rip
instead of a big hole. dx