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Casey Campbell Apr 2020
If sadness had a taste
I imagine it would be plain
Heavy like cream
But tastelessness in flavor

It might taste like rejection
Shocking, maybe spicy at first
But then your tongue would go numb
And then you couldn’t taste anything

It might taste like grief
Salty as a widespread ocean
Burning as you swallow it
Clutching your stomach as it sloshes about

It might taste like anger
Sharp as a Fireball whiskey
One you’ve taken too many shots of
In your bouts of pointless, destructive rage

It might smell like your sheets
Comforting at first
But soon they become chains
Rather than the escape they were before

It might smell like sweat
Something that should be for exercise
But instead it’s because you haven’t showered
And the aroma just reminds you how incapable you are

It might smell like rotten food
Food you should have thrown a away days ago
But you’ve left it uneaten in your room, on ***** plates
Because you feel like you deserve the filth

It might look like a messy room
Not because you’re lazy
But because there’s no reason to keep it clean
No one visits anyway

It might look like ***** laundry
Piled in a corner
Things you haven’t washed yet, but why bother
You aren’t leaving the house anytime soon

It might look like a ***** car
Dusty and unused
You haven’t driven it in days
Because you can’t stand driving alone

Or... it might just look,
Smell
And taste like me
A stale saltine
Attempting to be something I’m not

— The End —