four squares, now three
of dark chocolate, the kind of dark
that makes me feel like a grown-up
although it's childish of me to say it that way
but then again, it's been that kind of day
and that kind of chocolate, only two squares left now
and the sweetness is never enough
to drown out the bitterness of five cups of coffee
oxygen staining my cheeks a bright pink
as i move through a tiring day, drinking
cup after cup of darkness, feeling
shot after shot of energy, extending
my day, inch by inch
cup by cup
square by square, almost midnight
and there's only one left
one crutch
and yet i know there are excuses
for these vices
after all, it's not *******
i say this every day, to each complaint
and my hand wavers a bit, the left one
sometimes it shakes
and i clench it tight, proving that i can still control myself
it's only a side effect
of something, anything
these are only crutches, just
something, anything
to push me through the day
and up through the night, until finally
i can sleep
and it feels right