Goodbye, Goodbye, Goodbye

December 21, 2020

You tell me I’m beautiful so many times. All the same way. You’re angry I can’t reciprocate. Really, you’re angry you let me in. A big house, all to yourself. I sit at your table - you bring out the nice silverware. You’ve prepared a meal for me, but I eat very slowly. I’d like to save room for dessert, I say, if there is any. You don’t know if there is. There could be. If we could both just finish our dinner.

You’ve cooked me this meal many times. Taste always the same. I’ve begun to trust the consistency. It’s not always something I can stomach, but beggars can’t be choosers. You choose me, though. I understand why you’ve moved to the edge of the table. Bed. It can’t be easy.

What about a good dinner party guest is easy?

You invited me for a reason. What’s easy is working this room. Sometimes, I don’t know how to stop. I’ve got a house, but nobody is home. It’s pretty outside, but I couldn’t tell you what’s in the fridge. Maybe nothing. I don’t throw dinner parties. I just attend.