Coffee, not again

It's the coffee, maybe

That un-stills me, 

This weird hurt that renders my innards

Tender

Or is it the nature of my being?

Is it my tender?

Why does this caving feel like a craving?

Why is the sky all hazy purple?

Is it the mind that has stabbed itself?

Or has my soul finally broken down

I won't know, 

Not that it matters. 

But that I yearn for her

In the swirling shadows of this dark, 

Like coffee spilt on the clouds

Gloomy yet stark

I have yet to hark 

I will not harp

These needles of your absence are sharp

Yet your voice echoes

Curls me into a ball

Ravages me in a thousand cuts

And then you gently salt these wounds

I hope that I am never found

For the love I have is profound

I wilt

Like the fallen basil leaf in this October heat

Partially eaten by worms of your hate

I lie to myself as I lie on the ground

This drudgery weighs a million pounds

Coffee then?

Is all of it coffee, 

Does it do this to my steely nerves?

What was in it I sought and it was a hound

The hound of your longing awaiting to bite

Sink its teeth into my soul, 

 pinning me to the ground, 

Beseeched by my own heart

In madness unbound

Tripping, tipping, 

In a wretched living

And this universe was supposedly all giving

And that God, all forgiving

So I heard, so I have

Then why does he not hesitate

Why does his face not smile gently?

Upon this dilapidated soul of mine,

Why is it subject to such painful prongs?

And when it sinks deep,

Does my maker weep

I bet he does; I bet he smiles.

In tears of joy

As I finish my twelfth coffee in four hours,

What have I done to drown so deep

Is it my bearings that I forgot to keep? 

I fall asleep every five minutes

Wake up to a hallucination of your presence

Leave me be, for in your torment of gone

I cannot raise my voice anymore

To call out, it hurts

My innards, it claws like your nails

Fresh out of a session from the salon

And sleep, I can't

For it will let this pass by

Rob me off from the reaches of loneliness now

Don't ask me for what I feel, or have been

Knowing 

Knowing that I am fading, 

 being rendered inert

My being, my existence, as we 

Coffee then?

I ask myself, 

And here we make another cup

I fill one for you too and sit and sip

Adjacent, diagonally, from your cup

You are not here, so I mimic

Spill a spoonful each time I take a sip

And then pretend to talk

Hear your voice, often of hate filled words

Hurled at me like beautiful golden magnolias

Ah, Coffee again

Maybe I will add some magnolia flowers to it

You don't worry about this

It's me and me