flowers are fake
they blossom and bloom
they make you look
pretend to die
so that you pick all the uglier plants besides them
throwing them into a white and red Walgreens grocery bag
they listen as the dust punctures the paper thin plastic
but the ugliness is what helped them grow
so their yellow petals turn to brown
and then they are the ones being picked from the ground
Wife.
It’s a sick thought,
It’s the wrong word to describe this.
But then again,
It's not
I suppose.
I’m doing the job right.
My title is correct.
But I always thought of this as beautiful,
I guess it’s just my thoughts that were wrong.
I’m doing the job right.
I’m doing the dishes while he watches football,
That seems fair.
He’s the one that goes to work,
He provides, he deserves to rest.
He touches me,
I don’t want him to.
But that’s okay,
I’m doing the job right.
He doesn’t hit me.
I am not bruised.
He doesn’t cheat.
I am not heartbroken.
I think I'm just tired.
I think that’s okay.
I think that’s the job.
I think I'm doing it right.