Dependence.

by Poet on the Piano   Oct 31, 2015


You became my high, my up when I
wanted to dig myself a grave and tie
one foot to a tree so I wouldn't move.
You called me every morning, when I
was hungover, milk spilled all over my
computer.

"Hello, Ms. Sugar"

I never responded.
You visited far too often, your
Brazilian coffee beans jumping in
your briefcase, leaving my brown
Sedan to sit in my driveway as
you occupied time I could have spent
driving in search of real love.

I spoke in fragments, coffee just a
nightmare on my lips as you tried to
pour me drugs and caffeinate my heart.

I offered you no creamer. You drank
your coffee black, harsh, jagged like
your love.

I won't be your buffet. I won't feast on
what I think I need to keep me moving.

I'll move on without your taste of
wicked sweetness.

-
Written 10/31/15 @ 6:02 PM for Kay's "Coffee & Crutches" contest.

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Latest Comments

  • 9 years ago

    by Larry Chamberlin

    Such a departure form the other offerings. Your dependence is felt as co-dependence, despite the apparent fact he has you motivated to keep going: "my up when I / wanted to dig myself a grave"

    But sometimes mere attention is not enough, it can be cloying. When the other wants to keep you unchanging, static ("you tried to / pour me drugs and caffeinate my heart") you must find a way to break out, to finally find that drive to find your true love or your true calling, or perhaps just a better cup of Joe.

  • 9 years ago

    by BlueJay

    How has absolutely no one commented on this yet? It's beautiful - this section especially:

    "I spoke in fragments, coffee just a
    nightmare on my lips as you tried to
    pour me drugs and caffeinate my heart.

    I offered you no creamer. You drank
    your coffee black, harsh, jagged like
    your love."

    I love how this wasn't about the actual drink at all, but rather one giant metaphor for a person/ideal/moment (I'm really not sure which because I can understand all three perspectives). The detail is beautiful and I love how you used the words from the list as imagery while creating your own substance and emotional pull for the poem.

    The title definitely has a neat pull and opens up a world of questions and the entire piece left me thinking, which I feel makes for the best kind of poem.

    Although, I do have to ask, if it's just me or if the first stanza seems a little too different from the rest of the piece; like for a split second there's a disconnect that distracts the audience from the rest of your piece and beauty?

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