Chocolate Suicide

Inspired by H's post Death by Chocolate...

I remember the day I committed chocolate suicide. I took one M&M too many; gave a goodbye Hershey kiss unto the world. My coffin was two graham crackers, a smore, with me the marshmallow; the earth surrounding was the chocolate. It killed me now, it covered up the evidence.

It was vain of me to think I’d go to chocolate heaven. Instead I went to chocolate hell, where none exists, and it remains a clever name.

Empty wrappers litter endless brimstone. You see a candy machine ahead, but you will never reach it. You will smell it, you will swear you taste it, but it can never fill you up the way it did before your suicide. Demons have their fill of course, as you lick your cracking lips, so blistered from the heat.

A milkshake would so dearly hit the spot but if you so much dare to think of it, you’ll see a Burger King ahead. And it will become as forever distant as machines, when you were simply hungry.

If I lived again perhaps I’d try some moderation. Losing myself in bitter sweet ecstasy was not the paradise of which I hoped and dreamed.

What hell has been my chocolate suicide!
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