"dear heavens child, what the fuck were you thinking!" said sweet.
"didn't you miss the taste of lemons?! you love lemons!" said sour.
"couldn't you have just taped your mouth shut instead? you didn't have to be such a drama queen, for fuck's sake!" said bitter.
"your stomach acid smells like shit. and he was a horrible host" said salty.
i can talk again. but i'm not going to. instead of i'm going to read plays and have horrible hair and look at my tummy flab and go "hmm, sigh" and tell everyone i'm learning french when secretly i'm trying to decide what body part to eat next.
