My best fake honesty gets me in trouble every time
She finds it sweet
But then it's too late.
She's buying me drapes and underwear
Telling me what's cute and what's disgusting
Giving me nick names
Naming my plants, my fish, it.
Scented candles show up in strange places
Things begin to disappear, like
Pictures of my friends, my magazines,
Notes with girls phone numbers on them.
Her fav albums shuffle to the top
Cans of designer paint start showing up
A drawer is taken over by toys
I feel like one of them.
New bedding, as it's called, appears
Yogurt now resides in my fridge
The guys stop dropping by, at the scent of
Fake honesty in the clutches of my serial lover