Burnt Coffee

It started with the sound of white noise and the smell of her anxiety Her flaxen hair, spun like silver four blue eyes, Electrified, and Brushstrokes across his cheek, entire paintings under his eyes; Her certain sunshine because now anxiety is only A word. there was the Taste of burnt coffee, the color of her eyes and she hated it but Burnt coffee was his favorite. When the silver stopped spinning and a part of herself that never Loved her either started killing Herself from the inside out He could only watch because the only person That could save her didn’t care enough He tried so desperately to touch Her one last time but her eyes went black and He never drank burnt coffee again.