I never thought I had an addiction.
But I’ve tried to quit drinking coffee nine
times and yet again, I stand in line at the
shop, waiting for that consoling dark brew.
I know later, I’ll come down from
that high and when I crash, I’ll
feel lead-boned and dead inside,
like a car running low on fuel.
But if you told me right now, it
would mean the entire would to you
for me to give it up, I’d dump this
out on the pavement, and quit
cold turkey.
If you wanted it, I’d quit.
If it were cigarettes and you asked
me with earnest blue eyes,
to put them down, I would.
Not out of self-preservation, but
because you mean more.
You always have and always will.
I could never give you up, though.