A fool breathes candy concrete
Cotton candy outfits in the rain
And smoking Popeye cigarettes to look cool
But a Ring Pop to the eye,
Looking more purple berry punch than blue raspberry
A candy apple poison claws it's way through my stomach
Tought I was a Sweet Tart
But I'm a Sour Patch Kid
'Cause you're over PixiStix;
No more Airheads for you.
You wanna be a Gobstopper:
Sweet as a lollipop
But sour like my broken candy heart.
You're not Babe Ruth calling his shot,
More like Three Musketeers falling apart.
You promised cinnamon hearts and Laffy Taffy,
But I only had Hershey Kisses dropped on me.
Turns out Pop Rock bombings
Leave the Aero in my heart
Bleeding corn syrup
On my Junior Mint dress,
And my Twizzler-styled hair
Reminds me of our first licorice kiss.
Before the sticky candy cane mess.
Now you're Mr. Big
Being Kit Kat cool
And I'm the sweet-toothed,
Candy-concrete-breathing fool.
YOU ARE READING
I Am Everything
PoetryExcerpt: "I am everything: The autumn winds easing the leaves away from their branches, A baby's smile at daddy's funny face, The tears that seep into the soil at a funeral, A heavy snowfall on Christmas Eve. I am a hug: Offered only during t...
