This is the second poem of this blog. It's called Candid's Candy and it was a callabo piece with my friend Kevin Jimenez. It kind of describes love when it alters and shifts into a bad place. In the end, when the truth is told, maybe its best that we should be free..
The sweetest thing I've ever known isn't a gentle kiss on the collarbone, but the way tongues massage teeth when they spell truth. Polishing honesty across each white platform. Not teasing the roof of my mouth with fidelity, but earning sensations with promises. Bitter grapefruit lies must be an acquired taste because you swallowed my words and threw up deceit, laughs roll off your diaphragm every time I plead, I bleed honesty. You twist your words like sickle cells; how come I can't believe anything you say anymore? Tantalizingly secrets that hopelessly fell at your waist on my knees. I am not going to apologize because I am not your pet. Chi-chi-chi-Chia Pet my ass. Don't water me like I grow on your windowsill. I'm not ready to man up and praise your name, Whoa. I am a woman and I do have dignity, and don't ever undermine my authority. And my name is Kelly Platski, so tell Jason that he doesn't control me like seven years. 2007 is when all this bullshit started. And since then, lies started feeling more and more like warm hampers that somehow met my dryer. I guess you should have been washed first like what was I thinking. All mixed up in the wash, bleeding out colors, you hung heavy on my clothesline ever since. It doesn't make sense to leave you but you hang me out to dry. Blacks in all white, we make a perfect commercial. And I can't help but notice we became subliminally racist. Caramel chocolate; we eat on the grass while you allow others to diminish our meaning. So yeah, you can say we both left our shit out to air dry. Nastier than free ballin. I'm freely balling with your amnesty. So lets not pretend anymore and say candid's candy ain't so sweet after all.
Well, at least we're free now.
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