the women i live with

i hear the women i live with
day in, day out
they boast of the love they've found
in the arms of men
who only want them for a season

they boast of a never appearing forever,
and dream of fairytale endings–
while they slave away on 12 hour shifts
at jobs they are too tired to quit from,
and too dead to notice its toll anymore

these women, they hang on his every word
his every text, his everything
they cease to exist until they are reunited
with the men that see nothing more than a convenience

little does she know,
that he does not spend his 12 hour days pining
after her
little does she know
of the good things that are yet to find her
little does she know.

i hear the women i live with
day in, day out
they stoop down low
and no longer aim high
they choose all the wrong men
and no longer question why