Butterscotch


I refuse
to search for love
because I know that
I want it
for all the wrong reasons.
I want it to heal me but
I know
that it can’t.
I want it to glue together
all of my missing pieces
so I do not have to find them
myself.
Because it is so much easier
to teach someone to love me
when I can leave certain parts
out of the equation.
That way the sum
will be nicer to swallow,
smooth and sweet as butterscotch.
But me
I am familiar with all the parts
hidden away
I know too well that I am not
butterscotch
I am just
scotch.

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