so, finally - some truth.
the awkward fit of pleasant inside my mouth
it never has suited me.
i have tried to wear the mantle of happy girlfriend girl
but he is too clever
and sensed it fit ill
his ever-constant pleasant
abruptly turned three-dimensional
yesterday morning
i'm sorry i've lied
and tried to be better than i am
i can't really blame him
for feeling so gypped
though i can now at least account for
his pre-conditioned timelines and templates
and otherwise anal-retentive need to neatly fit
no wonder; my blood is a sweet mess
that i've bottled too lightly
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