The carnival is alive
Music hums behind the sound of a hundred voices
Lights blink in defiance of the night’s darkness
A snow cone sits in my hand,
A snow cone sits in my hand, Slowly dripping away in the heat of my palm
I want to put it down
But the carnival blurs into a mess of lights
But the carnival blurs into a mess of lights and colors
But the carnival blurs into a mess of lights and colors and voices
Tears obscure my vision
In the end,
In the end, you were just like a snow cone
You were an illusion
A delicious,
A delicious, Toxic
A delicious, Toxic Illusion
Sweet, syrupy oblivion masked the reality of what you were
Cold
Hard
I got addicted to your sugar
But time revealed the truth
and soon you melted right through my fingers
Your touch stained my hands
And all I wanted was to wash myself clean of you.
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