Not the artificial kind.
The first time I bit into you,
I thought I made you bleed
because your red juice ran down the sides of my mouth
like bad Halloween vampires.
So I screamed for my mom,
who sealed you up and locked you away.
So for a while, I was afraid of you,
I wouldn't touch your jar in the fridge
and I'd let my "pretty pleases" be plain.
But in the back of my head
I wanted to taste you again,
and I knew this candy that mimicked you
wasn't quite as good as the real thing.
So when I was a little older,
I killed my innocence
by stealing you away in little hands
and getting your blood on little fingers.