Good Morning, Good Luck

Good morning,

I say to myself.

After a night of troubled sleep.

For I hear your voice,

Your sorrows,

Just the day before

You called to give me bad news.

You apologised because you didn't want to break my peace.

But husbands and wives shouldn't keep things from one another, right?

Right.

I pity you.

An unstable job. A dramatic parent.

An impatient, weird wife.

I'm sorry for being away from you now.

But I guess the timing is some divine intervention.

For when I return,

I won't have time for respite anymore.

For a long while, at least.

---

I know words were exchanged

Between you and your mother.

I know she has expectations

Of a daughter-in-law.

Rightfully,

But expectations that I don't seem to fulfill

Because I don't have that same

Backdated mindset

And I come from a position of

Inherited privilege.

But I want you to tell me

What is it that both of you want from me

So I can decide

If I want to be that or not.

It's not an easy decision to make

It's either one can lead to the end of us

The other might lead to

The end of me as I know myself.

Although most of it is already lost,

Unable to balance different worlds

On weak shoulders,

Crushed by the force of expectations that

I stubbornly don't want to meet

For fear of losing myself

Completely.

---

I sit here now in my hotel room

Looking out the window

Such a beautiful sea view

With my favourite cup of Milo

Writing this poem.

A little bit of time left

Before the end of my temporary escape

So I savour these last few hours

Of being with myself

With these thoughts in my head

Before I go back to a world

That tries to tear me apart

Unknowingly

From the insides.