It’s my third mug of coffee,

And yes I have my coffee in a mug,

Something we argue about with him all the time this days.

When we first met,

He said he is in love with my being different,

But that are the reason doors are banged and words thrown at me like arrows this days,

The last time I was here,

He said am leaving coffee stains on his t-shirts,

“and you know coffee stains leave marks”


Am wearing his t-shirt,

But this one is black,

Just incase.

His on the other end of the room,

His eyes are cold,

And the only thing he’s said is  

“I’ll drive you home early tomorrow”

He is drowned in some sort of sorrow,

And the only part of him moving is his heart.

Now I wonder if I still fit in those Chambers,

He insists I have added some weight,

That’s the reason I didn’t taste the cake yesterday.

My sixth mug of coffee,

Now his changing  TV stations,

Looking for some program to take away the pain,

He hasn’t said a word.

It kills me to know that every day,

I cease to be his healing,

And with ever coffee mug I have as I stare at him,

His leaving coffee stains in my heart,

“and you know coffee stains always leave a mark”

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One thought to “Coffee stains”

  • Shimmer

    I looove this poem🙆🏽
    You too good love… keep on keeping on.. i am watching this space😊


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