late night venting

[kimchichipo]

"i'm
hungry"

uttered as both statement and demand
i wonder if
she grasps the heftiness of her words
the baggage she casually throws
down like a weary traveller as
she returns home

i am not your closet.
this is
not your
home,
friend

what she means
is "you aren't worth
the common courtesy that I
lavishly pour onto those
I consider peers."

she mistakes server for servant
and service for subservient

what she commands
"bring me
my
food
immediately."

an hour and a half,
i dance in my uniform,
a white shirt bikini
tethered to Jabba
as I try not to rage the Hutt.
entertaining and pacifying with
explanations delivered through
the forced smile, which
cages the
growing urge to suffocate her
under her own baggage

my eyes dart to
Ken
as the veneer of
the buddy sushi-man
cracks under pressure.
the chaos sinks in
but the smile stays glued, never
falling
off

over and over
over and over
day after day
i marvel at his
balance, as
he tight-ropes
knowing that
his family falls with
his plummet