Coffee breath
poem by Chris Taylor
Coffee on my shirt,
Pearls of liquid tumbling down,
My hair sticks to my neck,
I smell my own spit and am disgusted how it tastes
So I hold my breath and sit,
Wearing a mask to hide my guilty mouth and pimples on my chin,
Coffee smells stronger
Than my love for unknown things,
Pour fear into the cup
And drink and drink, burp the air received as I
Chug and guzzle down each mug,
Forever this is all I eat, it’s dark, stains my lips, my clothes,
I want to bathe in
Sweet-smelling, bitter-tasting
Cold brew, attracting flies,
Moldy when that last sip remains at the bottom
For days while I fall asleep,
Caffeine infecting me, crashing energy again and again,
No spoons left to stir
The thick foam into the thin body
When I brew my thousandth
Eight-ounce serving, sweating, saying all
The wrongs I’ve committed
Are side effects of over-consuming
Coffee.
Chris Taylor is a young writer who creates poetry as a coping mechanism, sharing it as a way to connect with others. In their spare time, they enjoy spending time around dogs, family, and listening to electronic and alternative music.
