Coffee (sonnet 64)

by Kristie Patterson

“… I used to hate this drink, now I crave it
And the cup reads ‘caution’ as a mocking
As if I’m too stupid to know it burns…”

The coffee scalds my hand,
my wrist,
my arm
It hits the carpet with a wild vengeance

“Did that wake you up?” it seems to jeer – yes

Since I’m being watched, I bring my lips forth,
And it takes pleasure in numbing my tongue

Scorched
esophagus,
but
warm
inside me

As if intensity fades when hidden

I used to hate this drink, now I crave it
And the cup reads ‘caution’ as a mocking
As if I’m too stupid to know it burns
As if I haven’t done this to myself

My skin still drips and stickiness sets in
“Was that worth it?” It seems we’re of one mind -
I always verge epiphany at this.

But it’s gone now. It’s gone at least for now.

Kristie Patterson is a 24-year-old Canadian writer. She is currently doing her Master's in Creative Writing at Cambridge University, England, where she specializes in poetry.

return to POETRY!