Favours I Shouldn't Have To Do

By Avery Jorgensen

Sitting in a cafe on our long drive back into town

They ask “can you scrape off my nail polish before I get home?”

Wincing at the pain, as the acrylic barely chips

To avoid a pain that most have never known

I think of other questions, other favours I’ve been asked

“Would you order this to your house, if I gave you the cash?”

“When my mom’s around, can you call me by the name I used to have?”

“Can we keep this between us, and leave it in the past?”

All favours I shouldn’t have to do

But “of course,” I always say

Because my small sacrifices are nothing

Compared to the ones they make every day

By Avery Jorgensen