He calls her Honey
In a casual way
Out of habit really
From years of practice
It rolls off his tongue without thinking
About the meaning
She has been his Honey for a long, long time
Now he speaks the word
Without emotion
Saying it without feeling
Honey is just who she is
Or rather who she used to be
His sweet, sweet love
Something delicious
Something pure
Through each passing year though
His Honey has turned sour
Age and anger have changed her
Until all that sweetness was gone
Curdled and turned
Into something he can’t quite describe
Something without beauty or love
Something different
With a strange and ugly name
So he calls her Honey
For lack of anything better to say
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