No Happy Medium
Location
There is no happy medium to an addiction like this,
but I feel its power
when I put the aluminum can to my lips.
I take a big breath before I take a big gulp,
because I know as it goes down
it will surely burn my throat.
I admire the red letters
written across the can.
I trace them with my fingers
as I hold it in my hand;
but it's the cursive type
that hangs higher to the right
that gives it a wonderful taste
that makes me a slave in this life.
Maybe you guessed it,
perhaps, maybe not.
It's not everyones first choice
and I've learned to not be shocked,
because I have enough love for it
as I slowly strut across the floor
and fill my cup up
with just a little bit more.
I hover my finger over
the now touchscreen dispenser
click on 'Diet Coke'
as if it could ever be suspenseful.
I'm not sure what is in it,
but it feels something like a drug.
It gets me high
and then low
but I can't stop the love.
People don't always understand
exactly how I feel,
but they nod their head at nicotine
and the gambler's appeal.
My defense is it's no different,
wait,
I take that back;
it is better than any cigarette pack.
I wake up with a craving
and routinely go to the fridge,
then I go to sleep with a headache
and this is my life I live.
It has engraved itself into my image,
taking its place in my hand.
All my firends laugh
because they expect it
as if it were planned.
Of course it has it's perks
that outweigh it's cons.
No matter what though,
I always drink it until it's gone.
I feel as if it runs through me
and bubbles up my blood
giving me this sort of energy
and I can't get enough.
Maybe it's just a fetish,
or an excessive commitment
because I would never choose
anything different.
Maybe this addiction will get the best of me,
but I can't live without it
so just let us be.