a poem about half hearted excuses

Jan 5

The plan is to get high and eat leftovers

The plan was to see a show yesterday

But you disappeared

And your boyfriend sneered

So instead you will go off without me

The plan is to take a bath

To soak in the bubbles and make myself laugh

Despite the plans that were made four months ago

Crumbling away like the bubble bar between my fingers

The plan is to watch snl

To see my president being made fun of

To hopefully regain my hope for this world

When catastrophe is foreseen between you and him

I try to look away at something that makes fun of pain

The plan was to make a plan

To call once a week

To stay in touch

You know it was wrong to leave me unread

I wonder what is going on, bulge out like a finger wrapped with thread

The plans are not real now

A sure is not an “of course show me how”

Somehow you made it across the ocean

But now you can't tell me that you will not be coming

That I am not welcome

That you cannot see me

Or maybe to be seen with me would cause havoc in your new home

Because the plans are in the waste bin

Because someone is insecure

Feelings should be validated

Boyfriends told the absolute truth

But you are missing steps

Trying to walk across a half-frozen pond

It is bound to crack underneath distrust

It is already chilling my heart

And yes I won't deny that the plans we kept were true

They warmed my heart and gave me hope

But now they are all falling through

Funny how three days can change things

Funny how a presence can sting

Funny how I am banished from a word

How I am reduced to an untrustworthy fling

So make a choice

Chose a path

Cuz polyamoury doesn't work like that

It isn’t don't ask don't tell

It isn't being comfy in a closet

It isn't having to pretend

That love is something unbeknownst to me

Hold your love dear to your heart and tell your love what is true

Keep it simple and trust your gut

Don't let the boyfriend make you nervous too

See if giving him what he wants *monogomy* is what you want to do

Then I will go like the wind upon the wings of plane I will board on January twenty-two

Or maybe you will decide that I am important in your life enough to explain the situation

Maybe we will occupy a different space but I cant have his jealousy encroaching

Because the plan is to get high and eat leftovers

But I will not be just leftovers to you

I am taking care of me, not being a scrap

This is a box I can no longer be confined to.

I try to be compassionate through art

This is the blood from my heart

And as for the best goes,

That is what I hope for you

-on bullshit