Tag Archives: sweet

mousse cakes and milk tea

sweet walk

sweet talks

night steps

and lips red

.

child’s cheer

celebrations

closing down

the tea stores

.

funny tales in

photographs

soft heart cake

another laugh

.

tummy burst

sluggish slow

one year down

and more to go.

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Root Canal

I wonder just how sweet

You’d taste without restrictions

Maybe I was this stupid, I’d

Take the chance and let you in

Hell, maybe I have to be this stupid

Just to actually take the chance

Because the rest of me has always

Been rational and restless

But just never enough to let you go

I’m a bit slow, aren’t I, honey?

Should I let you know what you mean?

Even if that means I crash and burn

And when daybreak crashes over

My thick skull, I’ll scream loud

Enough to wake up the entire world

For what I didn’t know I’ve done

And even though that would

Be the case, I still stupidly wonder

At the very edge of all my wildest dreams

I wonder just how sweet you really are

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a cup of warm tea; and the aftertaste of trauma

Sometimes I feel cold, even paralyzed
My interior world needs to sanitize
I’ve got to step through or I’ll dissipate…

~*~

the bitter of tea, the tang of lemon—and that subtle hint of summertime sweetness, melting into my tongue in one drowsy haze.

paint-stained hands clutch at the warm mug for dear life, and i take tentative sips and let the aromatic seasons dance around my mouth a bit, as if this very dark liquid itself was my final tether to this plane of existence.

perhaps, in some ways, it quite is.

the effect of sleepiness arrives to swoop me back in sluggishly, allowing me to momentarily lean back and stare blankly at the faces on the wall, all eager teeth and pastel craft paper, curling and fading all the way to wandering oblivion; but only a single smile really captured my absent mind’s attention. i wryly picture how it would look against later impressions of dirty blonde and crystalline azure, peeking rather shyly behind deep laugh lines and a few animated freckles peppered across pale skin, endearingly elusive.

sinking in; and sinking still. the effervescent mania that violently grabs me by the shoulders and dares to push its reckless fingers right in the middle of my tender ribcage, refusing to cease digging around until it finally hits something vital. lung, artery—the unfortunate heart itself, perhaps?

but—as i am melancholically assuaged—i am sure it will find only a hollow cavity where a beating organ used to rest. disappointed? not really. i’m painfully aware that already long ago have i been deemed one of the young naivetes who willingly sold it away, to someone who didn’t even know they were searching for damaged antiques. i practically gave it away for nothing.

and yet, where is it now?

is it gathering cracks and dents in someone’s mantlepiece, within a dusty old bungalow? is it buried lost under a child’s messy closet, along with broken toys and past innocence and all their other outgrown things? perhaps, has it already been traded away by its secondhand owner without a brief hesitant thought or a pause of chagrin, in exchange of a better, prettier, newer one?

ah, no matter…no matter. i no longer feel it anymore, anyhow.

cosmic snapshots. a feline grey and glimmering yellow eyes. lilting snatches of an unwritten song dedicated to the moon. murky rain dripping rhythmically from the plastered holes on the ceiling. a perfect pink photograph more potent than any flavour of tea or dosage of coffee, keeping me up well into the witching hours and then some. just another wordless poet. just another tired pen.

your bitter blue. my summertime sadness. the promise of morning, and nothing else.

~*~

And you know
You’re a terrible sight
But you’ll be just fine…

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clutter

you are mania

and sad playlists

and pencil-sketched lips

.

you are sweetness

and cold headaches

and portraits, unfinished.

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tasteless skittles

how is your voice so incredibly exquisite?

i wish i could keep it—i wish i could keep it all for myself but i know that’s just a dumb dollar-store daydream now. i swear i’m not senselessly selfish but i couldn’t help all these hysterical feelings, fleeting and fumbled, collapsing and careening, swelling and spilling beyond my exhausted arms but i’m not tired of you yet; though every unsolved puzzle piece i propose to pick out is so pleasantly problematic.

you’re so weird, but i like that.

maybe it’s just blunt deception soon dropping dead to distance. maybe we’re both meant for nothing more than a peck on the cheek and passive-aggressive complacency. maybe i’m the popsicle puddle melting forever in your sweetest summer sadness—but i won’t be watered down. and i won’t hold you back. if you’d just wait a little bit longer, then maybe will turn into…

something else?

and i’ll be the one singing for you, this time. and you could keep it. you could keep it all for yourself. i won’t mind, i promise. it’s always been yours.

because—dearest applebee, you’re just so;

you’re just too incredibly exquisite.

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blizzards

it’s 3 a.m.

why does it

still hurt

everywhere

nowhere

now here—

months don’t

fade like

you do,

like your

blue so vivid

sweet oh sweet

oh no…oh.

why do i

do this when

i know it’ll

only deprive

me of oxygen

bruised skin

lost in your

aether, cold

forever

and ever

and ever

and never.

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bruises fresh like lemonade

ᴅᴏɴ’ᴛ ʏᴏᴜ ᴛʀʏ ᴛᴏ ғᴜᴄᴋ ᴡɪᴛʜ ᴍᴇ;
ᴅᴏɴ’ᴛ ʏᴏᴜ ʜɪᴅᴇ ʏᴏᴜʀ ʟᴏᴠᴇ.

warm blood

mixes with

cold water

and sugar,

a spoonful;

is the citrus

stinging all

your veins

as it slowly

circulates?

rusty nickel

for a glass

metal taste

and chlorine

numb out

the arid heat

and all of the

playground

taunts, sweet

like sweat

and brutal fists

picking out

hard seeds

bones crunch

like melted

ice between

their teeth

but business

is business

even when

the blowflies

come home

so won’t you

try it out and

take a sip—?

it won’t hurt,

i promise.

ᴅ̷ᴏ̷ɴ̷’̷ᴛ̷ ̷ʏ̷ᴏ̷ᴜ̷ ̷ᴛ̷ʀ̷ʏ̷ ̷ᴛ̷ᴏ̷ ̷ғ̷ᴜ̷ᴄ̷ᴋ̷ ̷ᴡ̷ɪ̷ᴛ̷ʜ̷ ̷ᴍ̷ᴇ̷;̷
̷ᴅ̷ᴏ̷ɴ̷’̷ᴛ̷ ̷ʏ̷ᴏ̷ᴜ̷ ̷ʜ̷ɪ̷ᴅ̷ᴇ̷ ̷ʏ̷ᴏ̷ᴜ̷ʀ̷ ̷ʟ̷ᴏ̷ᴠ̷ᴇ̷.̷

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xoxo

dear love, i’m quite distracted

by that stray curl of russet hair

and those hazy atmospheric eyes

softly peeking out from beneath

.

dear love, i’m quite distracted

by those sweetly-serenading lips

i reckon your voice needs a rest

dare i move in now for a kiss?

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angel fever

angel fever

you’re making

me sick

cigarette stains

playing dirty

cold tricks

.

angel fever

you’re running

me dry

cough syrup

and kisses

a sweet lullaby

.

angel fever

don’t send me

home yet

my wings are

still broken

and that i regret

.

angel fever

won’t you pray

for my soul?

your halo’s not

mine, but won’t you

please let me go?

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butterscotch

you were in my dreams last night.

it was barely for five minutes, and yet

you still made my insides twist into

a quiet, nervous, childish smile—

when i woke up, i found i had a flurry

of butterfly dust dazing my thoughts

and bitter nectar on my tongue where

your dulcet nickname used to be.

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