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Sep 18, 2011

Bittersweet Treat

I pretend it's you--
This slowly sinking sugar cube
Drowning in the endless depth of steaming coffee,
Crying frantically for my help,
Disintegrating as it drowsily melts,
Overcome by the stormy heat.
I'll be neglecting you. Like you neglected me.
How unfair that I should be so cruel--
To something so inanimate
When the real culprit is you!
The grains of sugar have arranged themselves
To resemble your face; the signature smile
Is now a frown, because I have stabbed you with a spoon
And put a veil of foam where your eyes should be.
I stir; you're disappearing into a whirlpool of heat and bitterness
Never to emerge again. And I won't bid adieu.
You've sweetened my chasm of bitter despair,
You're the taste it needs to be deemed complete.
The Pits of Tartarus now seal themselves,
Having claimed their last bastard. 
The collection is done.

Sadistic pleasure (or is it relief?)
Pulls back my lips in a teeth-baring grin,
All I need is laughter, as the remainder of you melts
And disappears. Never to be seen again.
So I drink heartily my bittersweet treat,
Swallowing down sweet memories
That have morphed into a noxious mass of gelatinous nothingness.
Time changes everything.

A friend of mine (SB) took the liberty to write a reply to this poem, by continuing the analogy, not exactly from the point of view of the persona this poem was addressing, but as an active bystander who empathized.


Today. Just today.
I feel like that sinking sugar cube.
That slowly dissolves into the bitter coffee.
I do not call for help .just for acknowledgement.
The heavy liquid slowly pulls me down. 
I never neglected you.
I just tried to add to the flavour and make,
What I call a perfect blend.
I cannot promise a rainbow,
But try to be the ray of hope.
To a monochromatic life.
I want to let you know that I am brown sugar.
Different from the rest.
My eyes do turn dark.
My smile slowly turns into a frown, not because of the pain
But because the stab is coming from you 
Your oh so saturated brew was somehow incomplete.
I was just trying to fill in the gap. 
And I drown.
Not wanting to fight the whirlpool.
I might never emerge again,
But my essence will always flavour the pleasantries.

Now that the deed is complete,
I succumb to the bitterness.
And let go into the Pits of Tartarus.
Being the last of the lot. 

I needed the feeling of being felt.

Your grin. It’s devilish.
It tears through what’s left of me.
Your living is craziness personified.

As you sip down the coffee looking through the remnants of me,
Soon to be nothing: I somehow feel I am still there.
The memories being the last of me.
I knew.
I was no one.
After all I wasn’t the coffee bean.

Time changes everything. I wish it changes us.


Anonymous said...

Amazing job . love the analogy of the coffe and the sugar cube.

Drama Facilitator said...

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