loyalty to the big ass bag

that moment will sneak up on you;
you know, that moment where she
tells you something she should’ve
told you a while back; way back.

you’ve always wondered what she
carries around in that big ass bag;
turns out, it contains another life,
one that outshines the one you’ve
been living with her for years,
and it makes you wonder,
why the fuck she stayed around…

i’m almost ended the poem there,
but then realized a week later the
reasoning: life is dull and mundane,
especially monogamy, so she needs
that escape; that fantasy; that desire
to feel exhilaration and excitement,
so i made the decision to be inside
that big ass bag and never again
be the one on the outside:
it’s a much better feeling.

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Recently moved back to the States after living 16 months in Vietnam. I write to remove the thoughts trapped in the cobwebs of my psyche before the spider envelopes me whole.

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