I am aware of

how comfortable

I am being ignored


how comfortable

I am living

on a tightrope


waiting for a man’s

attention to somersault

and land on me.


More disconcerting

is when he

communicates frequently

Trains of texts

arriving curiously

on time


Instinctively I feel

overwhelmed

retreat into a corner


the rules

of the game

interrupted.


I have high tolerance

for low contact
which attracts


ramshackle types;


the emotionally rusty

with brains like boxes

of nuts and bolts


Pairs of magnets

simultaneously repelling

and attracting each other


Stuck

in our

own tragicomedy.

I don’t want to be prey

for old patterns

I’ve read books, taken courses


gone to therapy

Please believe me, God

when I say:


I don’t want the same anymore.