bittersweet candy
Updated: Mar 12
unwrap the round confectionary
and there it sits in my palm
shiny with sparkles of sugar
and quickly my tongue meets
the sour surface of the candy.
there are hints of raspberry
and maybe some lemon.
i just remembered that i’ve been waiting.
waiting for somebody to tell me that all i’ve lost
is also more that i can gain with new faces and visages
but how come it stings like a bite to the cheek?
mom is traveling next month for her green card
and then heading to korea to visit her mother
and classmates are visiting places i’d rather be in
so i’ve deleted social media.
i’m becoming too envious for my own good.
the back of my throat burns
this sweet is oddly deceiving and surreptitiously
disguised a flavor of fire i can’t describe.
it. burns.
the wrapper still sits in the sweaty palm of my hand
its plasticy nature uncomfortable to touch.
i need to throw it away.
these days i rarely go out
to the benefit of my parents.
they don’t tell me to stay home
but when i go out they wonder if i’m
focusing enough. am i on track? and sometimes,
even i don’t know the answer to that. i’m losing
connection, and with what, you ask? with everything.
familiar faces are a blur in my memory
i’m tired of the endless fear of the virus
my bed is telling me to leave the house just for some
fresh air.
the candy is still in my mouth
slowly melting