We need to peel away our armor,
put down our weapons again.
Our love feels so cold now.
Instead of you calling
to say that you miss me
or you needed to hear my voice,
you call to tell me that
my stethoscope was in your car
and you would bring it by since
you were grocery shopping anyway.
Since when did we need excuses
to talk, to touch...
You ask permission to call
and see how I'm feeling.
When I ask if you love me,
you tell me, "Don't do this
to me, baby--not right now."
I answer that I thought it was
a yes or no question.
You don't ask when you can see me.
You have laundry to do, and that
is the only governing factor
in your life today.
You are machine, robot,
mechanical man and I am still
an emotional woman who needs
you, heart on sleeve, exposed.
