push me away

 

i am no good for you. i am the slice
of cake you take home yet never eat.
i am destructive; both inside and out.
i am layers and layers and layers of frosting,
with very little cake on the bottom. each bite
is sickeningly sweet; i am just too much for you,
you cannot finish me by yourself. rip me apart,
break me down, dig deeper and deeper until
you taste the very essence of me. the creamy pudding
at the center that ripens on the tongue,
i drip down your throat, coating the walls
with my sweetness. share me with others;
trade stories of my attributes through
smarmy stories and clicking late night conversations
by LED lights. rave about my flavors, revel in
how the second bite rivals the first,
embrace my true self even before you
toss the plate away and succumb to a restful sleep.