The Sweetest Dreams

I kind of want you in my bloodstream,

like a thick caramel serum.


I want to inhale your scent,

like I’m in a powdered sugar delirium.


I really want to suck on you,

like a lollipop with succulent swirls.


I need to let the remnants of soda pop on your lips

roll around my mouth in luscious twirls.


I’ve been searching for a sugar high,

in this twisted candy land.


I’m left drowning in fields of gumdrops

and suffocating on cotton candy strands.


I’m knee-deep in ample puddles of marshmallows

oozing and tearing with each step.


I’m trying to keep up with you on a trembling tundra

of crushed snow cones, dribbled with flavorings that’ve bled.


I hate the winding roads of broken gingerbread

you’ve carelessly constructed.


From the mountains of cake to each iced layer,

all the sugar-coated froufrou of a daydream


makes me cringe and leave you forgotten,


and led me to this sickening realization

that sweetness turns bitter and bitter, rotten.

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