It's my third day
without sweets
and I'm ready to pounce
on a grain of sugar
like a ravenous honey bear-
on steroids-
with a Rambo-like attitude.
My body refuses to function.
It refuses to do anything
until it gets a cookie.
My entire system
runs on chocolate and pastry.
My brain feel suffocated
and deprived.
My feet feel heavy-
my arms limp-
my world an empty
box of bran flakes
and tasteless fiber.
I'm suffering major withdrawal.
But-
I am out to prove to myself
that it can be done.
That life can go on
without cake and donuts
and hazelnut coffee creamer
and shortcake.
I bought a bag of apples
with the sincere intent
of enjoying a few each day.
I just keep staring at them-
wondering what they are doing here.
These foreign fruits
that try to imitate sweetness.
Nice try.
But not quite the sugar rush
I was looking for.
I tell myself that I will
be able to enjoy pumpkin pie
at Thanksgiving-
and candied sweet potatoes-
and pecan rolls
and jello salad
and cheesecake squares-
IF
I can go without sweets
for the next few weeks.
Napping helps.
It takes up time that I
would normally be using
to stick my head in the fridge
looking for the caramel dip-
or tearing up the cabinet looking
for a Mounds bar from Easter.
Betty Ford never had it this bad.
(Just warning ya.)
Don't cross me.
Don't tempt me.
Don't walk in front of me
with a Chips Ahoy.
And if you are skinny
and organically inclined-
Don't even talk to me!
The sweet has
all gone out of me...
