I am not greeted as I enter, and I feel awkward as people stare at me and do not say hello.

In the morning I am thinking of how uncomfortable it made me feel.  I talk about my feelings, I guess this is my first mistake.

I am told I am un-pleasable.

I am not the un-planet Pluto in the vastness of the solar system.

I am not the circumnavigation of the ocean on a row boat.

I am not the Sahara desert with no water or shade.

I am a verdant forest with a waterfall and slate stream rilling through I am surrounded by lady slippers, lush ferns and jacks in the pulpit, I am trout leaping in rainbow mist, I am the song of water, I am a fawn dappled in the sun, I am a lizard basking in the sun, I am a red eft, a black salamander spotted with yellow, I am a fox, lapping at the water.

What you mean is, I am not worth the small effort it takes to please me.  I am not worthy of kisses to my neck and shoulders.  I am not worthy of having strong arms wrapped around me.  I am not worthy of a date even.  I am not worthy of being told Hello, we missed you.  Glad you are home.  What you mean is, you do not care enough to please me.

I am told, you have changed.  I hear, I don’t care for the person that you are.  Loud and clear.

I am in my spacesuit un-tethered.

I am parched in the noon sun of the desert.

I am in an inner tube somewhere in the arctic sea.

I have fallen through the ice in the tundra in January.



One thought on “Unpleaseable

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