My pet peeve is manipulation
In your voice
It's indistinguishable from your truth
Guilty for being born with everything you never had
Ignorant to your obligations as the oldest daughter
Blind to Familial expectations of unending strength
Sadness was inexpressible
Trapped, despair was rejected
Prohibited, banned, and unwanted
In the face of the Family
To feel exhaustion is weak
To convey unhappiness is foolish
Recognized only if cheerful
Applauses only heard in productivity
I wake to sounds of rotating ceiling fans
Breathing in the aroma of tofu noodles on the stove
High-tech devices are waiting patiently
In my self-embellished study
After 8 hours of online networking
Informational interviews
Two part-time jobs and job searching
I take a walk
Remorse follows with each step
The same questions resurface
Why am I the lucky one?
Why do I have the perfect life?
Am I an ungrateful daughter?
Manipulative tactics are never okay
Divided, I find validity in both sides
Does victimization play a role in my tears?
When is it valid for me to be sad?
Why do I cry when I am fortunate?
Your steps in Tam Kỳ
Trauma and sadness are friends
My steps in El Monte
Guilt and sadness indeed companions
You request to never see my lips frown
Demanding I cry where your eyes cannot see
Your only desire is to witness happy
Then happy I must always be.
