When I place a morsel before you that was slaved over for an hour in the morning while you were sleeping, and that first bite is terribly disappointing, resist the urge to let it show on your face and smile instead.
When an attractive, lithe woman passes by as I sit before you pouring my heart out about a ruined day, fix your eyes on my lips and eyes and think of words for me, and shift your gaze to her when I turn away.
When I take time to get ready for a fancy night out on the town with you, changing several outfits, decking jewelry, dabbing and smearing make-up; look up from your phone and tell me I look beautiful.
When everything is a mess and I’m feeling lost and hopeless, hold me and say, “It will all be okay.”
I don’t want the truth anymore. Give me lies. White, blue, orange; I don’t care. Honesty is not for me. Give me false hope and words that build fantasies. Take the bluntness and hoard it in a room in your head, I don’t want it.
Just lie to me baby.