I can't drink coffee anymore.
Actually, I can drink coffee it just can't be straight black coffee unless I want my body to start trembling without reason.
So I put a small amount of creamer to ease the anxiety that has my throat in the chokehold so I can swallow easier. Except sometimes that is not enough so I choose to sweeten the poison. Maybe if I romanticize my anguish with sugar this bitter caffeinated drink will taste more usual, more normal. Only now I'm forced to choose between splenda or just regular sugar. Everyone prefers regular sugar and on most unwavering and conventional days I would too. But now I'm starting to realize the splenda isn't too bad. Actually, I've liked splenda for a while I just prefer sugar. Yet despite this they've asked me why do I love splenda now. Wouldn't I have used splenda in my other drinks. Truth is, I've didn't always drink black coffee. In fact, I used to drink coffees that never tasted like actual coffee but they also were never the real drink I'd go for. I just assumed I liked it because everyone else did and I wasn't opposed to spending a little more to insure that people always thought of me as normal.
However, now I realize I like black coffee. On days when anxiety isn't as body trembling, I will order one.
But on the days that is it, I pour creamer.
On the days that I'm with you, I choose splenda.
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Talking Tree (Ongoing)
PoetryOne time I was listening to a lecture by a wise man who told me that if I had no one to talk to I should talk to a tree. So here I am.
