I still remember the taste of your kiss from weeks past,
And I thought that it was sweet
as honey,
But you,
You did not want me to be
your
girl,
But instead,
your whore.
Suddenly you became artificial honey,
a taste so sicking to the core
And I want no more.
My heart does not break but instead yearns for your tender embrace.
And deep within,
I hope that you do decide to converse with me,
As on that cold, wintery afternoon..
