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 youโre here.
Ice cream tastes good in every season
Except winter.
you remind me of ๐๐๐๐๐ช decay. in a pop-up cartoon store, flies buzzing around your flushed eyeballs.
๐๐๐๐๐๐๐จ๐ฎ๐ฎ๐๐๐จ๐๐๐ and with hearts still in your eyes. tell me whether it hurt when they loved you.
on the night that you broke your eyes open,
cried into candy packets you found at the petrol station smelling like gasoline and regret
in your still-standing baby teeth like slabs of sugared marble there were
your birthday was halo-lit nights and cigarettes in sugar cakesโ
melted icing smeared over the tips of flames snuffed out in the dark.
you asked for a songbird, said your lungs were burnt with apocalypse dust
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