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Coffee stains
February 11, 2022
Like a drawing
He drew his way into my life
Like a stencil
He shaded my eyes
Like a painting
Each stroke
Coloring my smile
Putting curiosity on my face
But then he spilled
His coffee flowing through our history
And just like that
My beautiful illustration was ruined
I tried to dry it out
But the paper ripped and what I once knew was no longer his
But only mine
I had based my life around him
Having no patience to accept my fate
That I couldn't continue to confess
Our love had dried out
But the page was still torn
Cause maybe we weren't meant to be
Maybe we were just a coffee mess
© Emily B., Houston, TX
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This is was about my first love. This poem talks about how we were in the begging, middle, and end. Just like a story, but shorter. So much detail in few lines. Read it and feel the love lost with one coffee spill.