"Pain"

Pain rips through my body, but it is not the pain of the flesh, that I could have understood, could have turned away from.  A bruise or a cut would have been as nothing compared to this.  I could have held my pain or rubbed the place struck, but how do you hold yourself or stroke the pain within?  But you turn away, unaware of the damage that you do, I dare not reach out to you, rejected one to many times.  I try to kiss you and you say not now and push me away.  I try to hold you and you are too tired.  And so I go through my day, existing within myself, waiting for those times that you reach for me, never having the strength to refuse you what you deny me.  The stroke of your hand, your kiss is a rare jewel to me that I collect as you casually toss it my way.  And so you say you love me and I believe and I wait for the next time, for the turning away and the pain I have become so intimate with.