To My Snake Plant

Some plants wilt

if you shift them just an inch.

Others thrive

even after weeks alone.

Some return home

to find them thriving

still green, wild, loyal

He is more a snake plant.

I’m more of a peculiar eucalyptus.

It’s not my fault.

Still, I feel guilty.

A sensitive stem.

Water me.

Whisper sweet nothings.

Brush my leaves.

Carry me from corner to corner.

Just don’t leave me alone

drying and crisping.

It doesn’t matter.

I’ll fade away anyway

Love has its seasons

Replace me

but not in my place.

I want you to look at that corner

and think of what you’ve done

to me,

and the other

plants that are gone.

To the snake plant:

I’m sorry for you.

You take neglect as love.

But you couldn’t die,

even if you tried.