Who's Eating Who?

I stopped by our place, the ice cream shop down the road.

They still carry those cute waffle cones with rainbow sprinkles, which adorn the rim and cling to the pink, hardened chocolate.

They top every scoop with whipped cream and a single cherry. I usually ask for it in a cup with the cone as the hat, the icing on the sides of the scoop, and the cherry on the center of it.

If we came together, we’d get two scoops and two spoons instead. You thought it was cute when I would take off the cherry stem and place it below, as the mouth.

I could never bear to face you often or properly because one look made the acid in my stomach feel like an ocean of butterflies and I couldn't control how fast my heart kept slamming itself against my ribcage. Someone as sweet as you choosing an oddity as me seemed abnormal so the dumb voice in my head would persistently whisper to me that you deserved better, but the scent of you would smother it. I just couldn’t push away the urge to feel you hard enough either, so my hands would find their way to your hair and our tongues would French again.

Was it only me who felt this profound love and devotion? Maybe deep beneath your flesh laid a two-headed snake and I, who was too foolishly captivated by your saccharine words, wouldn’t notice. However, even if I were to unwrap every layer of you and be flooded by your sins, my heart would continue to torment me with an unbearable longing for you.

You didn’t know, but I’d get so jealous, I’d claw at my sides and dig deep until I reached bone to bury what-ifs. I’d let my words swim, sink, and drown within my skull instead of letting them get to know you because they’re as sharp as a freshly broken chert and it slices at me every time I hide in there. Could I have cut you up as well or would it have been like I threw you into a pit of razors? Could you have survived a thousand cuts? Sometimes, I don’t think I’m a good person, but I couldn’t chain you to me. To tatter and rip your wings just so you could stay with me in my endless hell would be cynical.

I can’t seem to feel the beating of my own blood-pumping organ in my chest anymore. I was left empty afterward, emotionless like some kind of doll, only because I chose the safety of hiding within my porcelain shell. This tie I keep trying to sever keeps chipping away at the edge of my blade, so I prefer to watch the thread mend itself instead.

I sat there for a moment, mixing a single melting scoop with a single spoon. The stem now slanted sideways, and the whipped cream had already collapsed into the milky soup. The cherry was mashed in my mouth, and it tasted like iron. Was it bitter because of me? The juice squeezed between the spaces of my taste buds as if I were bleeding from the cracks on my tongue. 

I hate whipped cream. It tastes just like air with a side of every single person in here. I also hate when ice cream turns into this sticky consistency. I always manage to get it all over my fingers somehow. Washing my hands just strips the moisture from them, and my skin feels like it’s crying when it tears, bleeding like the cherry guts on my tongue. I also hate chocolate, but you made it taste so yummy. Now, it’s like chalk between my teeth.

The ice cream clown was a mirror of me at this point. The color of the sprinkles ran down like red and blue mascara.

The cone was the best part, so I saved it for last. I placed it beside the bowl on a napkin because I hated when it got soggy.

I always wanted you to have the first bite even though I could feel slaver gush out from the corners of my mouth. I’d place the cone in front of you like a treat and watch as you gently bit the edge. Pink chocolate crumbs along with halved and quartered sprinkles fell on the palm I placed below your chin. You’d smile as you held the chocolate, waffle chip with your lips.

How could my heart not melt, when you looked so adorable?

I could feel the cherry, cone and ice cream making its way up my throat. I really tried to make it home, but again I made another mistake, and this time I ended up throwing up all over my car. I knew it was too late when I felt the area beneath my tongue flood with saliva. Then it came, mushy waffle cone mixed with coconut flakes and milk, right on my steering wheel. It dripped down onto my hands, pooling between the webs of my fingers.

For a split second, I forgot about you, and it made me panic, which caused me to smear some of my stomach contents onto my hair and in between the holes of the stitching in the leather seat, as if you were just hiding somewhere nearby.

As if, I could just hold you again.

If only the ice cream could’ve taken the way my heart felt splitting within me along with it.

*I wrote this piece on February 25, 2024, and its good enough to be shared now? I will most likely come back and edit it... Also, I made the cover using paint so it's kinda bad lol maybe I'll share the original version? i dunno

I will update image soon!