---
the feeling was like so new,
and i remember the days
i last felt it.
light-headed, down. . .
one glass of water,
then two and three.
one glass of juice,
that's how life still tastes,
not colorless water
nor salty shrimp pastes.
. . . yet awake,
yet aware.
drunk with water,
reality rocks my mind
back into the plain world
where you have sweetness
in caves you mustn't mine.
my head is in
a bad type of ache,
a high, cracked landform
for the waterfalls
to be from.
and now others swim into
the coldness
of our tiring love
spilling through my eyes.
and this was how I—
and this was how Sugar
turned partly stone
when she didn't want to.
a rebellious stray tear
brushed past her lips,
and alack!
it feels right
to taste the skies'
painful sweetmeats
'cause she didn't obey
when they said,
"don't rush,
don't rush, don't rush,
don't rush, don't rush,
don't rush, DON'T RUSH,
DON'T RUSH, DON'T RUSH."
---
YOU ARE READING
Sugarcoat
Poetry𝙎𝙪𝙜𝙖𝙧𝙘𝙤𝙖𝙩 ╰ a s e r i e s o f p o e m s ╰ c o m p l e t e d "The truth is underneath the layers of sugar; scrub the condiments off your eyes."
