“i hate sweets”
you’d once said
being offered a cake
and having none of it
for you did not like the taste

i wondered why that was
and came to the conclusion
that perhaps the reason
was because you had known
the taste of sweetness for too long
the people around you
they looked at you
talked to you
and they were
too sweet
tooth-achingly so

and maybe that was why you loved me
because i was far from sweet
i was sour
slightly painful
i've been told i'm unpleasant (not by you, of course)

an acquired taste, you'd said

"not unpleasant," were the words you whispered
smile crooked
eyes mellow
relaxed
"just a bit different"

i wondered if you loved me
because i was "me"
or because i was "sour"
because i wasn't "sweet"

so i
covered myself
in candy,
asked you what you think

"my dear,"
you smiled
"i wouldn't care
how 'sweet' you are
for i would still love you"

"but you hate sweets" i countered,
and you
laughed at me
"i also hate the sour taste of lemons," you said
"and you're the most sour person on this earth"

sweet tree
raised from
tropical
earth

to grow upright
and out
to sprout
from trunk
a bunch of
pink and
pointed pods

or perhaps
crimson or
yellow
aubergine
tangerine
green

scythed clean
from host
and hacked
in two
for getting at
seeds a-pulp
in white
and slimed

and spreading
them out under
the sun
to get hot
in their own
juices

to ferment
wild

to bake
dry

poured tinkling
by the
thousands into
sacks of hessian
for sending
‘cross seas

to furnace-cracked
futures
winnied and
conched
sweetened
melted
and hardened
into shapes
of other things


© 2017 Adelaide Heathfield

i fell in a sea of crystal clear honey,
sank to the deepest abyss
floating, swimming
through candy-coated dreams.

i get a kid's licorice kind of high
everytime you look at me
with liquid warmth, laughter, summer—
those beautiful amber eyes.

i'm caught in a strawberry avalanche
caramel popsicle knees melting in milliseconds
i don't know how you trigger
my hidden sugar rush obsession.

can i comb my fingers through the maze
of your curly cotton candy hair?
can i taste the chocolate peppermint fragrance
surrounding your atmosphere?

i'd give up my innocence,
to live in your confectionary world.
rot my teeth, stay sweet
be your blueberry cheese cake, vanilla ice cream girl.

Do you remember that day
when I gave you a candy
made of deep senses of mine?
You were glad like a child
and I also felt blessed.

Then I came with sweeties
with strong cognac inside,
you felt dizzy for a while,
then suddenly brushed aside.
Thus, I was deeply distressed.

You said - 'no more sweeties!
I have no heart to digest.
They are too bitter for me
and are full of poisons
so, my feelings they ******'.

They were in fact medicines
prepared from the pains.
Needed to add them your love,
but you gave them back to me
just for their bitter taste.

I have a very limited diet.
I survive off sweet and nutritious thoughts.
The compliments that taste like candy.
I devour them whole.

Put a little icing on me.
I could use a personality.
What do you want me to be?
Something sour? Or something sweet?

Cut me open, limb by limb.
Tell me good things.
Eat me and tell me how good I taste.
I crave the validation.

The bad thoughts have my stomach tied in knots.
I puke them out until I'm hungry again.
I could use some sweet things.
So all your thoughts get shoved down my throat.

Order anything you'd like.
I'll be whatever you want.
I'll make sure to consume perfection.
You are what you eat after all.

Am I good yet?
Am I too much, too little?
Too sweet, too savoury?
I will take in your thoughts and make you happy.

I'm filling up on too many thoughts.
But I'm starving.
I'm overeating all the nice things you say.
My insides are an overflowing shipwreck.

What flavour is my personality?
Should I just scrape it off?
Everyone will like me more without it.
Everyone will like me more without it.

Devour me whole, tell me I'm pretty.
Take a bite of me.
Call me the perfect identity.
Do you enjoy me?

I purge your thoughts and change my flavour.
Why aren't you happy?
My stomach is empty.
I've forgotten who I used to be.

Here's a poetic division for a boy who caused a dozen,
A dozen expectations and a bucket of hope.
But was I hopeless?
Yes, I was, and it felt tight like a strangling rope.

If I could count those glances and stares that you threw, I would.
To me they're unexplainable but I know there is a meaning.
Those dark orbs of yours sometimes lighten and a shade of grey,
They keep taunting me, under pressure, made my heart beating.

Sweet talk, sweet words, sweet nothings.
How come they zoned out to be a foul?
There is nothing to blame, not even my challenged reputations.
Afterall, it did not matter, because you made me fall.

I cannot forget your hints, they're all stuck in my head.
Every little word you say is quite tangible.
But I regret everything, all the unsolved puzzles,
This memory is the worst and surely unforgettable.

Your label's blank, erased, and unnamed,
I had scorched down my crown and of course, my ability.
As fragile and broken as a cracked vase,
Blue boy, you should know that you're nothing to me.

your love like molasses

darkness behind your eyes
black hearts in mine

hands slipping sweet
around my waist

when we part
my fingers sticky