Why oh why.... my little Hershey Kiss...

Damn you…
I love you, I hate you…
Yet I cannot stop eating you…

They say “just have one”…
Yet I cannot.

My will yields only to the small brown tear drop.

Servings; There are nine.
Nine per 230 measures of heat.
Nine per penance I must pay.
Nine per pound of flesh I must give.

Bastards… the lot…