You are a good looking man
You pack me a lunch box every morning
but it is filled with poison
A kiss on the forehead keeps me coming back
You are too sweet, sugar in my veins
I am too tired to see
You are slowly killing me
This path I am traveling is already paved
When I come home too late
You are waiting by the door

one

      two

              at the count of three

this pregnant pause will birth

                  a bruise across my cheek