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.

I have hung up my relationship cap,
Muddled down with nonsense and all of your crap.

You say I went left but I was always right,
I just gave you the flowers so you couldn't pick a fight.

I was braver than I thought when I walked out the door.
Didn't really care that I littered the floor.

With fragments of photos and memories together.
You did him in our bed, who knew you were into leather!

I changed all the passwords, ate all the food.
Logged into your accounts and deleted all  your nudes.

Took the dog, Netflix account and the goldfish too.
Broke your Nicki Minaj Cd's but kept EryKah Badu.

I salted your garden, ****** in your pool.
I that angry so I broke every house rule.

I don't care about dignity, I may be alone,
But I am petty as F$@k and made you read this poem.

Do you remember that day
when I gave you a candy
made of deep senses of mine?
You were glad like a child
and I also felt blessed.

Then I came with sweeties
with strong cognac inside,
you felt dizzy for a while,
then suddenly brushed aside.
Thus, I was deeply distressed.

You said - 'no more sweeties!
I have no heart to digest.
They are too bitter for me
and are full of poisons
so, my feelings they ******'.

They were in fact medicines
prepared from the pains.
Needed to add them your love,
but you gave them back to me
just for their bitter taste.

I do try
not to be a bitter person;
bitter about the life I live,
the life I want to live,
and a life that slipped away.
I do my best not to write bitterly,
And it's true, I sometimes do.
I do my best not to be so bitter,
though I can and often am.
I wonder if it's in my DNA
or because of a life so grey
But **** it,
I do my best.