Abstracted

A Sweet Kind of Sour

I'm crying inside my mind,

and between my teeth is the sweetest kind

of comfort taste,

that melts in haste,

as if lying in the sun,

near the one

who broke my heart;

almost like the rigid part,

of a bar of deep brown

and the crumbly dust that surrounds.

But the sound was the worst,

of the tears and the hurt,

as something sweet divided in two

and the family I loved was never true.

Because the smell of betrayal,

and of tooth and of nail,

became louder by the hour

while sweet turned to sour.

And the day finally came

when it was all just a game.

A father left for someone else,

so the heart that melts,

intermingles with the liquid,

of rich sweetness one gets sick with.