Sloppy Seconds

I need an antacid for

All this heartache, honey.

Remembering you

Is like finding crushed pepper

Stuck between my teeth:

It burns,

Sudden, and uncomfortable.

Yet as I rediscover

Crumpled, greasy napkin notes,

Our happy-meal toys that held the promise

Of temporary amusement,

I'm reminded of the warmth of it all.

I can nearly feel it swirling within my mouth,

That taste of a slurry of chemicals and colors

Mixed into something we thought was real.

So I allow it to sit on my tongue

To taste the ghosts of a past

We treat like a fast-food lunch

That never happened,

Hoping to ignore

And thereby obliterate

That one mistake

That left us with a sinking feeling

Within our core.

No, baby,

I don't want fries with that.