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Sweet Things
February 14, 2014
Feed me some more
Of those things
You call sweets,
Morsels of sustenance
I like to call lies.
But the aroma is intoxicating,
The pull irresistible.
It is comfortable and blind.
Foolish me,
I who saved them and cherished their virtues,
Launched myself in the waves
Of bodies already decayed
By the sickly manifestations of your most doting affections.
Go ahead and
Feed me some more
Of those things
You call sweets.
I suppose that I have grown
Accustomed to you,
My personal demon.
© Rebecca W., W. Hollywood, CA
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