Submit your work, meet writers and drop the ads. Become a member
6.2k · Jan 2014
You and your seductive mind.
coffeemantra Jan 2014
The bizarre movements, of your hand in my lips
The caress of your lips on my lips
Your sweet tender tongue, and mine through the fight
Wrestling yet so gently, through the movements of guitars
Song you play so tingly, in my stomach I can feel
Tingling sensation, as you work your way through me
Caress me so gently, make me feel your love
Let me hear your heart, yet feel it against my chest.
Let me feel you drumming,  pure seduction of the soul.
1.5k · Dec 2013
Depression.
coffeemantra Dec 2013
I've forgiven myself for these nights of endless sleep
Till the sunrise and the moon showed size
I was sad.
I've forgiven myself from excluding of humanity, starving myself, drinking alone, and drugging my soul
From talking to God in that violent tone
These days of depression, oppression and disgrace
You would try to hold me but empty I was
Made me coffee every morning
Held me tight while I panicked, always keeping yourself cool
Writing is how we communicated, reading how I excluded myself
This summer I read so many books
I don't even know how the world looks anymore
My God is gone
My skin is white
My chest in pain
And you, right there
I'm sorry I didn't let you embrace me, I needed to myself
"We are in this together"
I'm sorry, I forgot.
coffeemantra Dec 2013
I tried not to fall in love with Mila for she was broke
She who hid her crooked honest smile
Holding her coffee every morning
I said hi, she just never noticed I was the one that cared
Her eyes screamed 'help me'
Help me from myself
But no one could ever understand
She who sat alone in the mornings with her writing pad
She who walked alone staring at objects not eyes
I smiled at her everyday, she never looked up
She who probably cried every night
Everyday day
All the time
..
One day Mila walked towards me
I sighed in disbelief
She stared at me with her big brown eyes and said 'Keep this for me'
She handed me her writing pad
She walked away soon
I waited till the next morning
She never came.
She with her absence
She with her obscure self
She with her unveiling silence
All she needed was help
..
I fell in love with Mila
A love that was spurred from afar
For it was no possession
Admiration that was all
She who I could've helped
She who was so beautiful
She who understood how much life was doomed
She who's soul didn't belong here
..
Mila killed herself, for this was not her place, she went to try another universe
I'll be joining her there.
1.2k · Dec 2013
I want to feel something.
coffeemantra Dec 2013
I'm secluding myself from humanity in hopes my rationality will come back soon
I'm burying myself in books, marrying them giving all my love to them
With the innocence of eternal love
The one that will last forever
I drugged myself this morning, in hopes to feel something-- anything.
5 minutes nothing
10 I'm feeling drowsy
20 I'm just sleepy
I took my pain medicine and my sisters fever medicine both combining to make Vicodin, the holy narcotic everyone talks about, but I felt nothing.
I didn't want an overdose, I don't want to die, atleast not now, I guess.
I smoked cigarettes, cigars, ****, hookah, I drank liquor and beer
Nothing.
Last night I combined coffee and cigarettes, I felt heavy and refreshed from the menthol
I felt relaxed.
Now my sweet encounter became a viscous addiction.
I'm a **** up in normal human form.
1.0k · Jan 2014
Hydrocodone.
coffeemantra Jan 2014
You are my killer
You are death
You are my endless tunnel wreck
You ****** me to my tomb
You are my endless somber womb
coffeemantra Jan 2014
Your guitar is left untouched

Your computer is shut down

Your eyes are heavy, enclosed from last night

I touch your unshaven face, the kind of raspy I felt in between my legs

I roll out of bed and straight to your living room

The smell is of you, the one I’m still not quite accustomed to

Our sporadic encounters leave me warm inside

The kind I haven’t felt since the happy brown eye girl died

I go into your kitchen and look for your medicine cabinet, then it occurs to me I’m probably the only human being that keeps their medicine right above their spices, just like any indigestion of food

I turn around and spot my reflection on an awkwardly placed mirror

My hair is long and red, the one I had before I got depressed

I like you because you understand, or maybe it's because you don’t try to understand

When I lay in bed all day and you bring your guitar and sit down next to me

You play me little tunes for my sadness, I write words of morose for your amusement

We work because I’m sad and you’re not and for some reason you’re not fed up with my mood swings and my weird yet, nonetheless this disease that’s consuming the optimist girl you first met.
893 · Jan 2014
My demons make good coffee
coffeemantra Jan 2014
I don’t know what to tell you

I don’t know what you want me to say

Every weekend it’s the same

Same question

Same silence

Same feelings

Same darkness

Every time it’s an elongated silence from that question

The one I can’t answer

You stand next to me, looking down from our height different holding your Heineken as you slur your words to me

Do you love me?

There it is again.

That question.

How do you tell someone you love you don’t love them the same way they love you?

Our drunken nights and endless fights are like a boomerang thrown at the end of the night
Delaying its return every time

I’m sure I don’t want you

Is all I have to say, but I’ve kissed you and held you and dribbled with your heart

I am the ***** that has used you for the lack of embracement she is most needed of

I chose the wrong person

The wrong lover

The wrong time

You’re drunk with all these lies I tell you

Enamored by the ones you barely remember

From the memories of when I used to make you coffee
“You make the best brew” he says

But what he doesn’t know is that even my demons make good coffee

Even the heartless monster inside me has sweet kisses to give out

Even the ***** that I am can make you think she loves you back.

I’m sorry, I just never told you that.
coffeemantra Jan 2014
I'm tired of you, because you make me feel like I can't do anything.
I'm tired of you because you make me inadequate for the working world
I'm tired of feeling broken
I'm tired of making plans with my life and being unable to because you come in the way
I beg of you to find someone else
A more desirable body for your impregnation of inaptitude
I'm tired of feelings hopeless
Sleeping all day
I'm tired of you embodying my soul
I'm tired of all of you and every least bit of you
I want to be happy and deserving of this human world.
710 · Jan 2014
I couldn't write a eulogy.
coffeemantra Jan 2014
The death of a giant however it may be is much more dramatic than a little person's could ever be
My mom with long, jet black hair
Wavy like the ocean swirls
She floated through the halls ever yet so gently to the rhythms of guitars
Danced through the night with her Spanish hips
I saw her as she deflated
Color skin so white
Sleeping away
The pain letting her stay
I saw as her defeat came through the door
With a shining armor gentleman announcing the deplore of life
Trumpets played so loudly
Swords in her memoir
Tears went down the alley
My heart took a run around the floor
Mommy please don't leave me
I cry in high pitched noise
Beeping sounds like sirens heard all around the door
Running people in desperation
Nothing that could ever change her soul
I saw as she fought
Nothing seemed to work
I whispered 'I'll love you'
And with my approval she let go
I saw as she turned deathless and stiff
I saw as her body was left in peace
And her soul went somewhere in bliss
coffeemantra Jan 2014
I think you tried to tell me with your unveiling silence that we no longer were an us.
I think you tried to tell me, subtle many times before, but I just wouldn't listen, I just wouldn't stop.
Thinking, writing, felling
I just couldn't stop.
656 · Feb 2014
Learning.
coffeemantra Feb 2014
In my life I’ve learned that it is possible to love two—three things at the same time with the same intensity, such as I love coffee as much as I love books as I love cigarettes in the morning.
That my vices and mischiefs are who I am, both the most beautiful and sad parts of me.

I’ve learned that just like people are happy they are sad, and just as people live they die.

That happiness and love are for everyone, but I’ve also learned that this world, and its horrors isn’t.

I’ve learned that society isn’t a norm, and that human absolutism is not a thing.

That you have to **** up to learn, as no one has ever fallen in love without being a little brave.
I’ve learned that depression ***** you left and right, that it’s a real illness and that taking antidepressants doesn’t make me any less of a person.

I’ve learned that embracing who you are is what makes you exquisite and endlessly fascinating.

That life is an absurd infinity for all this togetherness and otherness.
620 · Jan 2014
Daddy never loved me.
coffeemantra Jan 2014
I am the fetus you procreated
The baby you left
And the woman you'll never get to meet.
I am you
Your faults
Love
and lust
Never protected by you
I am the vulnerable child you left without a goodbye
The woman that became such with no guidance of you
The crooked teenager who always needed love from a male the most
The broken home
Feelings
And hopes
I was yours until you decided to leave
I could've been like you if you would have decided to stay
Me of you you are
And me of you I am
coffeemantra Feb 2014
Her thoughts slipped through her mind as the razor slit through her veins
Her faults and pains washed down with the water to the drain
Her conscious seemed more vague as her life dangled from pint to pint
My sister walked in 'I just need to..' Her sentence stopped midway by screams of exasperation
The shower had turned into my accomplice
The transparency of the water had turned into a host for my waste deep feelings
My heart a beat away from death
My brain a suicidal attempt from bliss
596 · Feb 2014
I'm split.
coffeemantra Feb 2014
Sparks so shut you can see through her eyes

The pains and smiles she’s gotten to have

Sometimes in the mornings I have to leave her behind

She’s forgotten how to open her eyes

I grab black grains and start the brew

She grabs her eyelashes encrusted from tears and the mascara she forgot to take off 

The lack of sleep she goes through every night has her walking ghostly down the hall

The floor is trembling on her behalf

I walk close to her, almost as the shadow or the ashes she’s left behind

‘There she goes again’ the walls whisper to me

My home goes on a riot with her presence

Her skin and eyes are opaque

They’ve forgotten what color is

Our feet ache and the intolerance for the cold pains our bones 

My heart feels heavy, intertwined with the physical pain she makes me feel every morning and the broken emotions were able to remember at night

Sometimes I feel emptiness on the torso of my body, that’s when she leaves and I’m left on my own 

Sometimes I cry to remember I had her

At least when I was sad I felt something more than blankness 
I look in the mirror and see my crystallizing eyes ‘so this is how it feels like to be dead yet alive
coffeemantra Jan 2014
Depression comes with tearing her hair loose.
The floor trembles in her presence. She likes my bed the best, curls herself up and weeps in silence.
She looks in a mirror and stands up straight, ***** in her stomach, pushes her shoulders up front and looks idly at what so much inactivity has done to her body.
She is always this way: nearly deteriorated for the heaviness of her heart. How she moves ghostly from place to place. How she can’t look at anyone in the eyes. How she compensates her lack of will with caffeine.
I hold her every night as she cries herself to sleep. I tell her, you can’t stay here forever. There’s things I've got to do.
There's days I come to find her gone. No explanation, no said words, just the smeared mascara of her absence on my pillow.
I lose myself trying to protect her.  
It's a unilateral decision, it always has been.
But the longer she stays, the longer this undesirable impregnation of inaptitude stays in my body.
These days, I've conquered the times this disease embodied my soul.
543 · Dec 2013
You are my cigar.
coffeemantra Dec 2013
I can taste you in my mouth
The smell is of you
I can have you for a minute burning in my hand and it's you
I can have you in and out
I can hold you inside me till I pass out
I can throw you out
Put you out and move on with my life
But I always end up feeling shaky
Hoping you were here
Nauseated by the thought of my defeat
490 · Dec 2013
A dream awakening.
coffeemantra Dec 2013
I like to think that you are here
With your memories and said words that could never be returned
The smell of your mouth that tastes like coffee
The smell of your hands and cigarettes too
I like to think of you
As a mere memory of whom once I thought you'd be
The perfection in form of a man
The creation of the objectified love
The sadness within all of this hallucinating
And the love that was lucid
Your hands a few centimeters from mine
Never touching never mine
Go through your soul but soul mates aren't real
Go through the world but we all have fears
484 · Feb 2014
Her
coffeemantra Feb 2014
Her
I wake up in the morning, yet for it to be another day that I will see her cry
I open up the curtains and the uninvited sun light comes in
The day won't stop
I get a cup of coffee as an understanding that we have
I feed her lack of will, I fill it with caffeine
'Just another day, just another day' I whisper to her every night
Somedays are harder than others, hosting her has become a part of who we are
My body isn't mine, just a skin and bone suit, I am being hosted in
472 · Dec 2013
You and my coffee.
coffeemantra Dec 2013
I hope that when you drink coffee you think of me savoring it next to you at five in the morning as we simultaneously smoke a cigarette.

I hope that the first taste on your mouth reminds you of mine as to when we used to kiss, and the taste of my tongue, filled with coffee and cigarettes stuck through.

I hope that when you hold the mug, it resembles to mine and you think of how I used to put it up against my nose and smell the fresh brew and smile.

I hope that when you finish your first cup you get up and serve yourself another and realize you can’t do that with me.

I hope that when you’re done with your third and fourth round you miss me, because I’m gone, and no one for you will taste like coffee and cigarettes at five in the morning with a spike of me.

— The End —