Only a Year

People are bored in Bangkok.
The TV is work's background noise.
Anecdotes are shared between friedns
Who laugh and jossle each other.
"It's just for fun.
Don't be serious.
We're just playing."
There is karaoke.
The MV shows a hard-working man.
Another missed call.
What could she be doing?
Then a set of photos hidden.
She found them, cleaning.
She cries, but keeps quiet.
He knows. She knows.
How long will he keep lying?
The phone rings.
The taxi asks,
"Where are you?"
like an inspector
interrogating a witness.
Guilty until guilty.
The top hit is "24/7"
All day every day.
Their next hit is "Soft, soft"
Gentle love.
They like to ask me if I'm single.
Marriage sometimes comes up.
I grab a co-worker's hand
and everyone laughs.
An honest mistake.
It used to mean a ring.
When she calls,
I can't think of anything to say.
She can't either.
Always the same.
They say we can't understand.
It's too complicated.
We weren't born and raised here.
What if we could?
We are the language we speak
and our cultural beliefs.
Our environments are unique
so is the happiness we seek.
I give up.
Many of us still call it "home"
'cause we're going back.