do you feel yourself rotting?
"You only know that what tastes good on the tongue is torture for what the tongue can’t tell."
Nothing leaves a taste in your mouth like love requited as the granules of artificial sugar. Sweet sand, dissolved between the folds of your gums, a crunch between a mouth full of bones. A handsome face behind a veil made of shadows and a shadow made of a billion hungry hands. Scraps of a three trillion tiny stars melted under your starved tongue, shooting microscopic holes inside of your unsuspecting heart.
You poor darling. You’ve never known the difference. You only know that what tastes good on the tongue is torture for what the tongue can’t tell. A pacifier in the mouth, rotting the ridges of a glitter filled tooth and again…how would you ever know the difference, dear girl? For you have never tasted your own love to know what raw really is. And why not? Your heart is a chalice spilling from the hands of an orphaned child, yet it cascades down the throats of thirsty wolves. And you give it away like spare meat on a bone to be gnawed and gnarled. To try a bite for yourself, you would call it cannibalism. You deserve to call it love. Don’t you think you deserve to call it love?