The bitter taste in my mouth never seems to go away
It’s acrid
I’ve scrubbed my tongue clean, yet there it is, still gushing through my veins and roaring down my spine
Maybe I’m just too angry all the time
Maybe I don’t have a reason to be
Maybe I’m weak
Acrid
Sometimes you make cookies and all that’s left is crumbs
I used to pride myself in never crying
I guess I gave that up too