I wish I could yell at you
and tell you how it feels
share my painful truth:
that I care, even in my dreams.

I punish myself because I don't.
Instead I smile, instead I laugh,
instead I tell myself this is what I want.
It isn't true. Sadly, it's all I have.

But then a small, tiny sign of affection
and I, starving for it, thank you
I cherish it as if it were my salvation.
In a moment, it dies, and I stand there, a fool.