Candy Man

Candy Man

by n.o.con

@n.o.con on Instagram

He told me he was like a kid in a candy store
By all of the sweet things life offered him
upon a silver platter.

Greedy, sticky hands
grabbing hold of every vice—
mortality would allow.

A cherry stained sink,
cocoa powder veins
and rotting teeth.

Little did I know
I was
just another sugar coating
to indulge in.

Just another treat
to feed the growing cavity inside of him.
But I wasn’t sweet enough
to satisfy his cravings.

His icing sugar blow
and pixie stick packaged crank
drew out
and enunciated the hills and valleys
of his rib cage.

He loved it so god damn much
he may as well have been a diabetic.

His treats
were coaxing him to his grave
When thought washed over him
he only found it refreshing.

He could feel death
nipping at his heels —
and would only slow down to greet it.
Waiting patiently,
for it to claim him
with hungry hands like his own.

He knew his limits.
He paid them no mind.
he would cross any line
for one more line,
An eye for an eye.

The spectrum of his cotton candy lips
from bubble gum pink,
to a haunting pale blue.

His lemon drop skin
like caution tape
that couldn’t seem to keep me away
I wish I headed the warnings
rather than bleach every blood stained red flag
that would flutter into my lap.

I mistook the crime scene
for a safe house
and continue to pay for it.

As the candy shop boy
grew into a man
He lost his humanity,—
His soul still wanders the empty halls of my chest.

I can tell myself
he is only a myth
A phantom of my past
The monster under my bed—
or in my closet
But my candy man always finds his way back to me.

A stowaway
on my train of thought.

I’ll find myself
writing him back into existence,
A ghost
I continue to resurrect
Regardless of how painful
the séance may be.

His presence
taunts me.
And I am petrified
of what it may want from me.

And I am reminded,
that it was when he took my hand
and lovingly guided me
Into his shop of horrors
I discovered a sweet tooth
I never knew I had.

I too fell for the sinister whisper
Convinced thin white lines
are as sweet as sugar.

So as much as I once loved
what’s left of this haunted candy store
I have no choice
but to burn it to the ground
and watch teary-eyed as the flames roar

Because I can’t let the candy mans phantom

haunt me anymore.