i held all the love my small arms could carry as a little girl
obviously i can’t remember this and it probably looks a lot different than i imagine in my head but this memory
this memory has taught me that im unlovable
i remember as i got older
and her hate for me got stronger she would always ask me
“you where so sweet what happened ”
and i never knew how to answer that question
it went in one ear and out the other
it’s important to know that i’m still sweet
i never stopped being sweet
maybe we have different taste buds
it’s because of this i will never introduce her to my own children
i always had a thing for fantasy
disappearing in to another world where love and joy is painless
books taught me that words have power and i want the power of every character i ever read about
i want my world to choke people
i want my voice to make sleeping people awake
to open locked doors
to warm cold hearts
to make blood boil
when i started to write i wasn’t sweet anymore
i’ve got a tongue that is bathing in poison
quick to think and quick to judge
like how could i be anything else then sour in a world that is willed with salt