Coffee and Me
Bags under my eyes.
Are a horrible nothing.
Coffee for me right now…
Would help the globs of pasta sauce clear.
Under my eyelids.
The puffiness everlasts.
Jagged underneath.
One eye is sagging more.
One eye is worse.
That’s how they know it’s horrible.
That the eyes are uneven.
Coffee for me would be like dark matter clearing.
Bugs in my eyelids.
Not surprised, it’s just crawling.
My pulse sends out a message.
About evergreen trees up north.
Bags under my eyes.
Can’t surprise me.
The mirror just caves in.
Like globs of alien slime.
Coffee might be my only choice.
As I gravitate toward this mug.
Heavy as if it’s filled with metal shards.
But it’s empty again.
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