From a Crow's Beak: Writing in Passing

You have the audacity to take advantage of me,
To steal from me after I have been gracious.
You have the audacity to storm away,
and slam doors after I simply asked
if you would clean up after yourself.
So I wouldn't have to.

You have the gall to wish for the inability to hear.
But the full knowledge to wish that in front of me.
As I suffer from the same thing you wish for despite also suffering from the reasons you wish for it.
You have the gall to tell me you would trade me if you could.
When I would never wish that upon anyone.

You have the nerve to brag to me.
About the food you can eat.
About the money you've earned to buy more.
When I have been sitting here crying about being starved.
And am incapable of fixing that.

I am not a dog.
You will not run me over.