pathetic is the way that i yearn for your attention,
clawing at anything tangible;
your water slips through my fingers in a
parade of mocking figurines
twirling and fleeting as my grasp tightens
and i end up with less than i started with.

do not think that i am the only one who notices
your frigid civility
and a bitter taste rises through my throat
as i remember the way you gripped it,
squeezing,
screaming

"i'm so sorry"
i forgive you.
no! no! no!

away with my tender thoughts and deceived imagination;
come closer, dear, and i'll show you how much you mean to me:
i hate everything about you,
and i want you to love me back, please.

twist my melancholic soul,
for you have become so cold.

(and i will heal you,
although i cannot remedy myself)