This post is part of a series called 100 Days of Poetry.

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you’ve got my number
with your smooth words
and that smile

you play to the weakness
of my vulnerability with your
manipulation, the lines

secrets and memories and everything in-between
the danger of being seen

hook, line, and sinker 
once upon a time

no matter how I
try to balance the 
emotional register of
the you and me – 
it never comes out even

you’re always in the negative, 
a debit to the credit
of who I am

your manipulation used to look
a lot like love

you’re a fake
a beautiful snake