Sitting on the Floor

 

I have told myself 

That I refuse to sit at tables

In which I have to justify my presence

And convince everyone that I belong

As I sit on my own chair 

That I had to slide between others

That makes me feel unwelcome

And reminds me that I am unwanted there

That I should sit at the table

That pulls out a chair for me 

And asks me to stay 

I am not talked over

And my stories are listened to

Where I feel loved

And I am appreciated 

Wanted 

But now it seems as though

I am begging for a place at my own table

There is a mutiny of my own kindness

As I am betrayed by those

I invited with open arms

Full of unconditional love

And respect

That was never fully reciprocated 

I have learned the hard way

That appreciation 

Is not always a two way street

And while you are planning 

On all the ways to show how much you care

Someone can be planning

On how hard they’re going

To shove the knife in your back

If nothing else

At the end of the day

I can sit alone 

Knowing I just tried my best

To fit in

And to give others a space 

Where they didn’t even need to try

Because I know that exhaustion too well

To ever ask someone else to go through it

Expected loneliness is easier to deal with

Than surprise heartbreak

Is it that life

Is such a cruel and heartless thing 

Or is it just the people who live in it?

Either way

I refuse to be one of them 

-j.p