Are you ashamed of me?
What have I done?
You say you love me, Privately,
Tenderly.
Yet, like a shameful child,
Fearful of the world,
A public declaration is too much,
For reasons hidden,
Within your soul.

Loving me is a burden.
I feel as though,
I am invisible.
Only appearing when we are alone Imperceptible to the rest of the earth,
I am only a tool,
To extinguish your loneliness.

Bitter!
Shameful!
Wretch!
Am I only that to you?
Is it too much to ask?
For a small bit of your time each day,
If only to say,
The careful words of love,
Which I so desire.