Pennies

Sometimes I think
how much less expensive I would be
if an intruder came in,
and I were murdered.
A few more pennies and a funeral's paid for,
a few thousand dollars and the debt's gone away,
and never again will I burden you
with the thick, unsurmountable haze
that blurs your ears and nose when I come near.
I bewilder you when I'm happy;
I annoy you when I'm sad.
My enthusiasm disgusts you,
because you want everything to be clean, clean, clean.
No heated kisses, no lack of caution,
no discontent or ambition, and
you tell me I'm lying when I tell you how I feel.
You tell everyone else that you love me,
but I'm nothing but a child to you,
a pet, a decoration,
and when I wear you down and you fray away,
how will you dispose of me?
Will we live years like this--
dutiful pleasantries, straining for dignity that I can't reach, wanting your touch and getting it parceled out in appropriate doses? Will I always be a secret to you?
Tonight, I walked outside, alone,
and the stars hung bright and low:
Cassiopeia, Orion, the Dipper
I looked at them,
they looked at me,
and I knew again that the only persons who understand what life is like are dead,
and I never knew them.
If only I could be alone with the stars!
I never annoy them,
never disgust them;
in fact, they barely notice me,
and I can adore their beauty
and admire them from afar.
If only I could love you
as I love them!
If only you were as cold as they--
but no! you are lukewarm,
and I will spit you out of my mouth.

Don't stare at me with pity and abhorrence;
I neither want to leave you nor be with you.