Expiration Date

Chilled and silent, like moldy chicken

Two weeks old and inedible

Façade engrossing my cheeks and

Spreading to my lips

Grin, bear it

Eyes are queasy and delicate

But sleep utters dreams in my ears

Those, which I can’t forget

Those are the worst memories of all

Dark in there, but unwilling to venture

To the other side

To burned, even in the decadence of masks

Ugly, yet smug and smiling

Best,
Anna Belle Lee

I always knew, and wished it away in the fondest of my nightmares