Ice cream

Sickly sweet,

Your words touch my prefrontal cortex

Like soft burning snow.

Your touch tastes sweeter

Than ice cream

On a humid sun-streaked day.

You,

Frost-borne by the north wind,

Smile like icicles

And pretend you care.

Yet

Addictive cold sugar streams down my throat

When I remember

That you’re here.

Ice cream tastes good in every season

Except winter.

mooncakes

VIC

14 years old

More by mooncakes

  • H E A R T

    Oh-

    Punctured the main artery, sunsets flowing down your ribcage, dull frantic thud-

    I’ve done it again,

    Left an empty hole in the middle of your chest

    Maybe there was something there before

  • Candy Stars

    I hold my secrets in the shape of stars,

    constellation-clustered candy like flaming balls of gas.

    Sometimes they have five points.

    Sometimes six.

    Always, they burn

    in that space inside your head