Sunday, December 13, 2009

MY JOURNEY-----Day 2---- Sweet-N-Low

Sweet-N-Low

She must be a diabetic.
The way she craves sugar.
Her insulin doesn't do her justice
Because sugars sweetness she's always lacking.
Hacking up the residual of failed attempts to keep sweet-n-low down
Her body sensing its inability to emmulate real
Sugar, so sweet it coursed through her veins.
Pains of withdraw
Coercing her body into convulsions
So severe she sips coffee sweetened with the next best thing.
Sweet-N-Low.
Convincing her mind and soul
That its good enough.
Swallowing quickly so the lack of sweetness cannot be detected,
Its bitter aftertaste ignored,
For her pantry houses that original sugar no more.
Only the occasional bleached white grain found swept into corners
And spotted under the edges of the living room rug,
These little mounds
Found
Of the seemingly forbidden treat
Are too tainted to taste so sweet.
So again the sugar substitute rests at her feet.
Sweet-N-Low.
Though suitable for the time being
Still doesn't harness the correct characteristics to quench her yearn
For sugar.
A substitute soon substituted by Equal and Splenda in hopes to come closer,
Nearer
Dearer
To the original.
None recreating that euphoric high induced by the that sultry sweet sugar.
See his love was so sweet,
She feared she would never meet,
Another whose love could beat
His sugar.
His pure, refined, white crystal sugar.
Mounds of his love poured through hour glasses just as time passed,
But soon it came to be that their time ran out.
Sugar replaced by opaque powder so fine,
That through the hour glasses restrictions
It passed with ease.
Time paced faster than God meant for it to be,
This man's love, just wasn't as sweet.
Her dependency on sugar had her system functioning in a function so dysfunctional
That she forgot self control.
Diabetic by default
Yet self sustaining in nature.
Chemical dependencies too deep to realize that even sugar isn't as sweet,
As pure cane freshly reaped
From the earths soil.
The true prototype from which even sugar is derived.
The day will come
In which that pure cane touches her tongue.
Filtering through hour glasses so slow,
That times seems to stop.
So sweet,
That nothing can soothe
Her heart like he.
His love the only kind of sugar she needs.

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