Coffee
I swallow it
Drink it black
Espresso with 43
In a living room
Brown leather couch
Improvised studio behind me
The light is cooler than my skin
But not brighter
And the espresso tastes no better on my tongue
When I hear The perfect girl
Death sad
Suppresses emotions and I'm an emotional wreck
And I sink into the espresso like the foam is quicksand
And the softness on my tongue
reminds me of our French kisses
The fineliner next to me
Every drawing is a picture of my heart
And every stroke reminds me of your face tatts
The sadness
Half tasteless half lifeless
My loving heart
is a picture of an unlovable girl
With a tiny cup of espresso in her hand
Tears in her eyes
The dead doll
That's me.
YOU ARE READING
ADDICT
PoetryHe said he's a Junky An addict of Love Yet he hates my French kisses The most Cause they don't taste like the xannys and coke -Eden English and German poems of Love Drugs and Addicts
