your touch was rejected
like a spoonful of sugar in my coffee
but still you stirred in with your burning hands
destroying my taste once and for all

once sober, I withdrew from the devil’s chalice
only way my crippled eyes can now see
but still I queue up for a comforting cup
like them all, i order, one normal life from the tap

one after one, being thrown into trash
no significance to it, never enough
black coffee repeatedly spilled upon my white sheets,
as my embarrassment pours in with the greatest of heaps