my mouth tastes like soap.
it's been washed for my crudeness one too many times,
leaving behind the imprint of a bitter, lavender kiss.
your mouth is sharp.
it tastes like liquor(ish) lies--
and although i am genetically inclined to taste the bitter,
i can't help but seek out the underlying sweetness.
it is still my least favorite of candies.
i dreamt of us forevermore,
only now i don't dream at all.
i could not tell you which is worse,
a nostalgic ache or an insomniac's misery.
it is a painful thing to be young.
young and in love,
young and in love with the idea of love,
young and in love with the idea of being loved,
young.
YOU ARE READING
fascinatingly fatal
Poetryi will squeeze my eyes so tight i won't see your evil, i will cover my ears and i will not hear your evil, and i will sew my mouth shut and you will never hear my evil again.
