F*ck Triangles: A Poem for Healing

Real Love VS The Games We Play

There we were

Playing in a tree

Innocence

2 young girls

Friends in a tree.

Until…

He came along.

Standing at the bottom of the tree

Looking up at us

Telling us

He’d like which ever one of us

Showed ourselves to him.

Not just lift our shirts

But take off our pants…

He wanted to see.

We were so young

There was nothing

Really to see

But something felt wrong

Inside of me

Hearing this

Considering this.

I looked at her

Not knowing what to do

It didn’t feel right to me.

Yet, here we were

She and me.

In a tree

Three.

She did it

And looked at me

And so did he.

I don’t remember

What I did to be honest

I don’t remember…

I was so young.

It was so long ago.

But what I do remember

Is feeling shame…

Because at church

They often spoke about

Keeping our bodies private

It was not for free.

Did I do it?

I sometimes wonder…

Did I?

Expose myself…

For the attention of the masculine?

Showing my privacy for approval?

Acceptance?

Competiting with the feminine?

Yet now,

Years later…

It appears

Unconsciously

I chose back then

To never really trust or

Expose myself to men…

Or to compete with

Other women

For them.

And learn

To see the truth…

He was just a boy

We were just girls

Yet already poisoned youth.

…

I do not like.

These games

We seem to play.

Life has tested me

Over and over

And over

Again

And again.

Mostly

With three.

WHY THE FUCK…

Does this keep happening to me?

I hate triangles.

Yet finding myself

Within this dynamic

Yet again…

So many times

2 women

And a man

Three.

But I refuse to play

This game

Allowing abuse

Manipulation

Triangulation.

Yet having to

Suffer the effects

Of the destruction

Of friendship

After friendship

Subtle power struggles

Between women

And men.

I walked away again

I won’t play this game.

But skeletons

Of lost friendships

Lost sisterhood

Along my path of life.

Twisted ideas of love

Destroying

Dishonoring real love

Sick power games.

Instinct and intuition

Saving me

Again and again

Often discovering

Hidden predators

And I got away…

But having to watch

More than once

Her fall for his traps.

Grieving

When she wouldn’t listen

She trusted him

And not me.

I tried to warn her

I tried…

The consequences

Affecting

Both her and me.

No more friendship.

Abandoned again

For the attention of him

The closeness

Between women

Destroyed

Yet again.

I will not play

This fucking game

Yet anger and grief

Still live in me.

Angry with him

Angry with her

Grieving it all.

And I wonder…

Are there truly men

Who don’t require

A women

To show or give her body

Before he will give

His attention?

Who will not use his power

To drive a wedges

between women?

Wanting to be pleased

By the feminine

Trying to dominate

And separate them?

Exhibiting his power over them?

Are there women who will not

Place men

Over her friends?

Or betray a sister

So she can “get” Him…

Proving herself

The better women?

Competing with her sisters?

Are there women

Who no longer only

Value herself

Through the eyes

And choosing of men?

I wonder…

I’d like to trust

There is another way.

Written 5 May 2018 by Aloha Jacqueline

Hoʻoponopono

My intention and wish in sharing this poem is for healing.

My own and others who choose to be touched by these words, and find healing within themselves.

Forgive ourselves and each other… returning to the love that we are.

Trusting that within each of us, we have the power to let go of the past, heal our childhood, life, ancestral (and other life) trauma’s by chossing to let go of all victim identities and be free.

Thank you. I love you. I’m sorry. Please forgive me.

Aloha.