my mouth tastes like soap.
it's been washed for my crudeness one too many times,
leaving behind the imprint of a bitter, lavender kiss.
your mouth is sharp.
it tastes like liquor(ish) lies--
and although i am genetically inclined to taste the bitter,
i can't help but seek out the underlying sweetness.
it is still my least favorite of candies.
i dreamt of us forevermore,
only now i don't dream at all.
i could not tell you which is worse,
a nostalgic ache or an insomniac's misery.
it is a painful thing to be young.
young and in love,
young and in love with the idea of love,
young and in love with the idea of being loved,
young.