it's amazing what we'll do for a little companionship. throw in the towel and give up a once easy smile for someone else's agenda.
you find that you can't laugh anymore, now that you have a selfish magpie in your ear. you can't hear what used to make you happy; can't hear it over that incessant twittering chatter. you couldn't if you wanted to, if you tried.
she'll buy you some cashmere, some small tasteful luxury; hoping to exchange it for what she cannot get for free. but that smile's not coming.
it's one for sorrow, two for mirth.
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