you tasted so good,

but you went so sour.

i met you, i loved you,

in half an hour.

it was too quick.

and i don't think i blinked enough.

and now i wonder where my mind goes when i put all of it into loving you.

you were blue and red,

and red,

then blue.

and can i be honest?

i think i hate being treated like a flavour.

like i can dissipate,

like how you disappear.

like i can just melt on your tongue before you get the chance to swallow me down.

like you didn't get to know me in 5 seconds

and decided it was 5 seconds too long.

i thought you told me i made your world burst with colour when you tasted me.

you could barely speak to me without being terribly disarmed,

rosy cheeks alight as red as your hair,

and then-

that turned into you barely speaking to me at all,

without a care.

how can i only stain your tongue but for a moment when i am so sharp, so pungent and such a riged red?

what is it about me that made you fled?

am i that easy to be rid of?

did i not choke on you when i took you in whole?

did you not deliberately tell me that i had your soul?

i thought we agreed on that.

how could you make me out to be bright and then tell me i'm black?

it hurts,

you know.

to let someone love you for all the things you used to wish weren't parts of yourself.

for all the things you felt like no one else could possibly admire, hold dear or come to love.

and then suddenly,

too suddenly,

have those things declared not enough.

not enough to make you stay.

but it's alright now.

because i think you burned my throat after i finally swallowed you down.

i consumed you,

i consumed you,

and you spit me out.

-strewn along the synapses of the mind


© ilifluous