sugar addiction.

His eyes dark eyes
reflected to me
the insatiable black hole that hungered inside.

Yet he portrayed an odd character,
with a mustache plumed in 18th century fashion.

But I could not be deceived,
for he smelled as sickly sweet
as all the others I could not deny before.

+++ Notes +++
I went to Starbucks today and got a cake pop I’ve never seen before.  We regarded each other for a dear, desperate moment before he was consumed.  

I made sure to capture that moment and turn it into a troll photo for instagramified poetry.



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