I need to write a poem

about toothache and loss and vacancy signs.
but its not easy. im not there yet.

Cure

Pause for a moment, here, take
the round of my face between your soft hands,
Lets both close our eyes and become
Butter, lets be warm and yellow and pure,
melting syrupy puddles, nothing more.
Let the crunch deep inside of you liquefy,
Please lets just be moldable and quiet for a moment.

Jack

In his pumpkin-scented kitchen
The knives were slippery, and
Toothed orange mouths opened wide for her.

ShugaLips

And in the castle that night
she ate jellied delicacies until
the sugar ran in her blood,

it was her mother’s idea.
Girls that are sweet are never
lost, only consumed.