The Hair Plucker

I know how to tweeze and thread.
I'm an employee by day, but I do these things at night.
The troll I'm married to sits at home all day and doesn't make a penny to spend on the kids, and he gives me a beating every other day or so.
All he's good at is giving me a look when he wants me, and I obey like a servant.
I never want to do it with him, but they told me women who disobey their husbands are cursed.
I hate myself when I see him, and I hate myself when I'm around him.
Sometimes I even hate my kids when I look at them. I can't stand them because they're his kids too.
I'm tired of hopping around from place to place, straightening this woman's hair, plucking the hair from this one's face.
But what can I do? I can’t let my kids die of hunger.
Sometimes, at the school where I work, I hear them say, “The hair plucker is sitting over there”.
That hair plucker you're talking about plucks hair so she doesn't get divorced, and because she wants to make money to provide for her kids.
All this so my husband won’t divorce me, because then they’ll say I'm a loose woman.
Every once in a while, someone comes and tells me that they want me, that they’ll please me, that they’ll pay me whatever I want.
I'm tired and I don't know what I want to do.

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