The Affection Spring

I stole all the affection from the sparkling spring. I took it without even asking. I took it even though I was told not to. The spring has become a trickle now because I took too much.

My skin has bulged; the seams have been selfishly stretched. Parched children with lost eyes laugh angrily at my discomfiture. I drank from the stream to gain affection. Instead I reaped a sweeping shame.

And now the spring's waters have drowned out my insides and rush forth ruby redness from newly opened veins. I will watch the tainted stream return home as I wait for the river to subside.