sugar-free

my first kiss was disgustingly romantic, dripping with so much artificial sweetener that it burned a hole in my tongue.

glucose and aspartame seep in through the cracks of friendships, letters crumpled up in the corner of my room to be ignored when they begin to taste like candy. i never text the number written in the footnotes.

sugar floss thrums in the air as cookies and cakes in little brown bags sit on cafeteria tables. i hide away in my dorm, hoping nobody hands me a note with the word banquet? on it. once i think i've escaped, powdered sugar sticks on my clothes and it happens anyway. the cake he gives me is made with bittersweet chocolate chips. hopefully we're just friends.

when i was younger, i never thought about sugar. i lived in my own savory world, oblivious to gazes filled of frosting until they filled my eyes and i was forced to flush it out. confusion filled my brain when i did think about it, and avoiding it was simpler. my world tasted fine the way it was. why ruin it with sweetener?

i expect to taste fructose in the space between me and her, but my mind is sweeter than reality. she is sea-salt that blows through my hair, and i like it that way. if she poisoned my brain with saccharin, i would have to spit it out. late-night talks on schoolroom floors and sleeping bags barely touching each other don't have to mean anything more. i still keep the planet charm i bought with her over my desk to smell its minty aroma. 

the sky is still bright when it's not sweetened. nature is full of green-and-gray hues that disappear with the addition of the stevia my dad keeps in the cupboard. i thrive in my world of solitary socialization, filling my life with so much flavor that it threatens to drip down my chin. when sweetness is taken out, bitter, sour, salty, umami, cool, and hot still exist. 

maybe someday, i'll try sugar again. but for now, i'm happy this way.