I told you I'd stopped drinking coffee
because it made me too anxious.
You told me,
wide eyed and serious,
that I was a different person
after a couple of cups,
my mood changed to black and unstable,
How could I tell you
that it wasn't the coffee,
No amount of caffeine could make me shake like you could,
send the invisible hand wrapping round my neck,
refusing to let go.
That sick twist in the pit of my stomach,
the vice like tightening of my muscles leaving me bed bound,
the topsy turvy, murky milkshake of words in my head,
the quickening of breath,
short rasps racing up my throat knocked back and left to struggle somewhere around my lungs,
It was all
Coffee made me more alert, aware, awake;
unable to switch off and escape into sleep.
All I wanted to do was stop feeling tired.
You were one great big exhaustion.