10/19/10

Sweet
By Amanda Firefox


If you give them something sweet, they’ll always want more.

Love is sweet, sticky honey dripped from fingers onto outstretched, wanting tongues. When it’s thickest, that’s when it’s sweetest, but too thick and you’ll drown in it. Tell anyone that at their first taste, and they’ll laugh, but they always want more. “Pour it on me!” They’ll shout greedily, mouths open. It’s like a drug, you want to bathe in it, let in sink in through your pores, soak yourself to the soul in it, but eventually you always take too much, always go too deep. You start to feel that cold dread, the oblivion of sinking, and no matter how much you try to claw your way back to the light for just one quick breath, you can’t get to it. You’re stuck, drunk on love, drowning. Faces pass by, curious, wonderstruck, honey-amber. Eventually, if you try hard enough, if you rip yourself out of that drug-bath, you’ll escape. You’ll taste sweet air, but the relief that comes fades quick, is passing.

You see, love is addictive.

No matter how close to death it carries you, you’ll always find yourself going back for more.


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Amanda Firefox is a fiery little brunette who spends as much time at the beach as she can manage. She doesn't write much, but when she writes, it's almost always about her favorite subject: boys.