Caffeine Junkie Poem by Benjamin Chew

Standing still, silent.
I know who
you are – ground powders
of brown on the mad
mug of black.


I look ill, no – more like
in devil’s grip, so
ferocious the bite.


Mind’s slipping away into
little gusts of
oblivion as I reach out
again.


Heart continues to
race in relentless tandem,
reverberating and beating
on the drums of my
life, so weak.


Numb is the word, blind
is the magic
code
that unlocks the black
gate.



Never


ending.