Coffee My Sweet

Black and rich, warm and smooth…bitter and acrid, a wretched little bean of the rain forest. My addiction to the black bandit, roasted lightly to blonde perfect is overwhelming.  

I wake each morning to a pot full to the brim and begin from that moment on to drink and drink.  One, then two, three, four, and up, up, up and away I go.  To the heavens I head, moving on the wing of a wild caffeinated creature.  Beauty is untold in these high mountains and clouds.  Pure Elixir, able to create a cortex change, a mental state of euphoria.  It has been called the worlds most used physco-active drug. It has enslaved millions to produce and procure.  It has been a beacon of light, and an evil demon to man and woman alike.

To me, it is everything I want in the morning, and I cannot let it down. It holds me and controls my every waking move. I am its puppet; it is my smooth operator.  True I could ask for it to be removed, I could treat it like a real addiction and go to rehab.  I could work the steps, get a program, a sponsor, and go to meetings over the little bean.  Many have tried to quit before me; my last vice, my stronghold, my Bastion of hope and happiness, my lovely and precious little friend.    

Do not go…do not leave me yet. We still have so much work to do. There is still so much that we haven’t talked about yet, so many things left unsaid between you and I.  I always thought it was us against the world, you and me, Danny and Coffee, together forever.  So I go forward, today, and I must go. My coffee is starting to get a little cold, as I have typed too long, and she doesn’t like that to happen.