The Wife's Tears

The Hand that Feeds

You spend your days and nights
In somebody else's house,
Saying they've invited you and extended their courtesy...
That there's nothing wrong with it...
You're only being nice and polite.

I wait for hours, day and night.
My eyes strained...
For looking sideways...
Towards my phone...
Wondering if you'll ever text or call...
To tell me of your whereabouts.

But there is no blink or beep.
I expected such...
But I keep convincing myself,
That, perhaps, you've suddenly had a change of heart...

I'm long past arguing.
There is no use defending and reasoning...
Because I know you've lost your love for me.
Only tell me what to do.

I couldn't leave.
I have no choice.
You are the hand that feeds and provides...
I'd die if I attempt to bite.