Sweet Defeat (Poem) (Patreon)

Author’s Note: I’ve been on a sugar kick lately and decided to try to write a poem from the perspective of a morbidly obese diabetic. I used a couplet poem, and to make this more fun/challenging for me to write, the first word of each line spells out “FEED ME TO IMMOBILITY AND DEATH.” At least that’s how it is in my original document. Patreon has a habit of reformatting and resizing things I write, so it may look a bit different. #JustDeathFeedistThings 

Sweet Defeat

Fear floods my mind because I’m getting so fucking obese,

Except it’s not horrific enough to stop guzzling sugar and grease.

Every day my lard keeps me stuck in my bed,

Drowning in blubber so wide-spread.

Munching on fattening desserts stacked on large plates,

Expanding for years, the scales met their fates.

Tryptophan and phenylethylamine in chocolate triggers the ‘feel-good’ reaction,

Overstuffing myself with sweets making me bigger for my feeder’s attraction. 

I’m his pig, his personal fatty,

Metaphorically, he’s my sugar daddy.

My feeder brings me chocolate shakes and an enormous cake,

Orgasms are nice, but sugar is what really makes me quake. 

Blurred double vision and pincushion toes, 

I need to monitor the diabetic highs and lows. 

Lingering symptoms means insulin is required,

I’m thirsty, hungry, and tired.

“Take your pills,” he demands and sticks me, so I open wide,

“You must swallow them like you do your pig pride.”

As my feeder stuffs me, my cheeks become red as a beet,

Nevertheless, he teases me by saying the doctor will amputate my feet.

Damn, sweets are my nightmare, and sweets are my savior,

Donuts filled with cream and his cock control my behavior.

Eager to consume sugar with an addiction comparable to cocaine,

Always saying, “fuck your bunny food of carrots and romaine.”

They say all good things must come to an end:

Heart, lungs, and pancreas I overextend.