Coffee –morning,
afternoon, and nighttime shots –
keeps me breathing,
and saves me from harmful thoughts.

I grew up with parents
addicted to the taste,
and a sister, who brought it home as a present
as if it held everything together like paste.

I heard through blue bedroom plaster
the cries of teenage rebellion,
and the yells of parents in disaster
from the back-talk of the hellion.

Coffee stopped coming home every night.
She brought it to a different family.
How I wished our home would reunite,
but we never regained our sanity.

Now I am intoxicated every day
with the milk-and-sugar infused
mixture. It turns the dull gray
of my eyes to look brown and enthused.

Each sip is rich in bitterness
and poor in flavor.
Yet it infects me like an illness
and saves me from the razor.

Sip some coffee
smile, don’t cry.  
Sip some coffee
the blood will dry.