When taking care of
others means you don’t take care /
of yourself, please change.
She’s learning. That’s good
for her. I’m left out and so
lonely. Bad for us.
There are thousands of/
books and podcasts to hear, but/
that’s not why I’M here.
I’m watching her first,
and mine, replay themselves. Our
conversation’s *mute.
OR
*gone.
OR
*dead.
It’s ok to have
P on the floor, as long as
it’s a vegetable.
We have deep talks when/
her device gives insights. Else,/
I’m left to myself.
AND
I thought myself wise,
insightful, worth talking to.
I’m boring, replaced.
AND
Were I wisked away,/
I would not be missed. She could/
still comment to friends.
AND
Some fight unfaithful/
lovers. Others get replaced/
by technology.
AND
If porn is wrong ‘cuz/
it subs for intimate love,/
what is device talk?
As long as I’m as/
I am, those with me will stay/
never satisfied.
I’m still doing what
I think I should, still wanting
to believe I’m good.
As my glory fades,
I struggle, then realize:
It was never mine.