I don't think of you often.
The days have long since ended, the days we shared,
The days that we were ourselves but not by ourselves.
But you come back and haunt me like a familiar song I forgot
That I used to love.
It's fun to enjoy for a moment,
Sweet and innocent and nostalgic,
But followed by a wave of nausea akin to the feeling you get
From eating too many sour patch kids.
And your sweetness filled me for a long time,
Then left me dripping out with a sour, bitter taste in my mouth.