Wilting

I'm wilting,
and I shouldn't expect you to care for my garden

to prune it of those pesky weeds
suffocating
the very root of my existence,
bribe it with poetic apologies,
or dress it in dewdrops or
drip drops of a fleeting Spring

no, it's not your fault
my heart filled itself with flowers,
expecting warmth
from your wintry mien