too much sugar will make you sick,

mother said.

she was right.

i have chipped my front tooth on rock candy,

burnt my tongue with sweet’n’sour sherbet,

split my lips in between sips of strawberry soda,

fairy floss is sweet until it makes you sick.

sweetheart,

the not first, not last man said.

hey you,

smile,

ooh la la,

kiss me,

be mine,

all mine.

i tell him i am not his sweetheart,

spit out my candy and tell him what he needs to hear

go fuck yourself.

he tells me to take a joke, honey – after all,

it’s just sugar.

but sugar is only surface-level sweet,

underneath,

it gives you cavities and rots your gums away,

somehow,

i am the bad one for refusing to stomach your sweet nothings.

do not give me your sugar,

do not give me your lollipops or bon-bons or suckers.

they laugh,

it’s just sugar, they say,

be a good girl and stomach it, bellyache and all.

i don’t care that i’m not digestible enough for you,

you are not worth the sugar high,

you do not deserve my baby teeth.

i won’t fuel the fire from your gaslight,

i’d rather make caramel under that flame instead,

sweetheart.

Find Em Readman on instagram at @emreadman

Sweetheart