Nothing tastes right,
But it's not like grief.
Grief tastes numb,
Empty,
Absolutely tasteless.
Grief tastes like nothingness
And the color grey.
Nothing tastes right,
But it's not like happiness.
Happiness tastes vibrant,
Exploding like the juice of a berry.
Nothing tastes right,
But there's no consistency.
First too sweet,
Too artificial and man-made.
Second too bitter,
Too something-I-don't-know-how-to-describe.
Nothing tastes right anymore,
But I've only now discovered
It's the taste of hollowness.
This is what survival tastes like:
Too sweet,
Too bitter,
Too everything I don't want to taste.
This is what betrayal and trauma
Tastes like when mistaken
For anger and bad days.
You are the aftertaste that I cannot escape.
You are the bitterness
That now resonates behind everything.
You are the sweetness
That leaves me aching,
Longing for something less manipulative,
Less artificial,
Something that isn't beautiful lies.
You are the trauma I taste everywhere
Around me.
But palettes can change.
YOU ARE READING
Castles in the Sky
PoetryThis poetry and short prose collection is for the shadow girls: the girls who feel like a husk of their former selves; who dream of better days and brighter skies; who wonder if their shadows will ever truly fade with time. Content Warnings: Anxiety...
