“Candy”

By Isabell Sherrill

You’re so sweet,

you make my gums bleed

the longer I’m around you.

And in my mouth I keep

all my sourness,

all my bitterness,

for you.

When I loved you

I craved you like sugar,

but you’re too sharp for me.

You drown everything

that isn’t you

in a cloying syrup

that drips into my lungs,

suffocating me.

I left you a year ago.

Left with my rotted teeth,

left with a sugar-coated tongue,

left with my throat chalky dry,

and now my life is nuanced in flavor.

I’ve learned of a more subtle love.

But once in a while, I feel

that sharp metallic taste.

And when I spit out the blood

I think of you.