Thoughts Over Coffee at 4PM

By Caledfwlch All Rights Reserved ©

Poetry

Chapter 1

I remembered last night

Unbidden, an image

Flashing

Unwelcome, but needed.

The image must flash in your mind as it does in mine

From where you knelt on the cold linoleum

Voice cold, hands cold,

Dying flesh.


It didn’t hurt.

Didn’t hurt until they took their searing,

Burned the shape in like still lips

Brand me.

It didn’t hurt— I remember

The peer of my flesh, bloodless,

Like rows of little white teeth.

I thought nothing.

Then, the scarlet

Like ruby, like pomegranate, the handle, the text

— no.

Just red.

Red everywhere.


How many months has it been,

And why did I tell you?

It screams from the streetlights, the cafés, my ribcage,

And calling back to

What?

A mistake, a slip

of silver.

There is terror in my skin.


Cold skin you touch, limp fish’s skin.

You are distant. I am awash

In the whips of the silver sand, hidden

In a quiet nook

I’ve familiarized with me.

The terror of hiding, the terror of emerging,

The terror

Of the palm of your hand

And the taste of coffee

And my silver skin.


She bought me coffee

With a splash of milk and candor

And a gentle push towards the book.

Iron hands

Wrapped my shoulders, pushed

My head down, eyes weak. (It didn’t hurt.)

Now, I blink

Wondering what has become

Of the amusement we once shared

In our hollows.


Your voice was cold, and

Harsh, biting

Palm slapped steering wheel

Desperate, desperate:

WHY DID YOU DO IT?

— I taste coffee.

There are things I cannot address, and I apologize;

But I know the value of short sleeves and the price they demand.


Last night, I remembered

Sudden, soft:

This is not the Whiskey Rebellion.

I’m no Revolutionary.

This is just whiskey, and the places where

It burns in my nails are searing.

I’d scrub it out

And scoop my stomach

If I thought it meant

I’d be rid of the cold.

But my mouth and hands are all stained silver, and I am left

With sand rushing past me

And the coldness of your voice

Remaining.

How may I break it to you kindly that I only see myself in the reflection of a blade?


My reflection on your teeth smiles,

Opens its maw. I gaze in at it, wondering

At the marionette strings still hooked in my ribcage.

’Cause healing feels just like bleeding out, and

Why I can’t forget confounds me.

You do not.

The confusion around you swirls in

And rests at a point on your head.

Golden eyes, golden hair.

One day, your thighs will stop sprouting fingers,

And I will taste coffee without tasting blood.

Write a Review Did you enjoy my story? Please let me know what you think by leaving a review! Thanks, Caledfwlch
Continue Reading
Further Recommendations

Sarah Luongo: I'm a big fan of the format of the book- the concept of incorporating poems and within the story and sectioning off periods of the story with each poem. It made it easier to read, and made the unimaginable easier to comprehend. What some people may skip over may be the most important part in this...

pencil: It is all about love and kindness and good worthy things winning in the end. Emotionally very charged and very nice to feel people over coming their circumstances.I also thought too much like a feel good magazine style.

crissy: Awesome work. The characters are so beautifully flawed and easy to relate to. The protagonist Bethany Hill is a woman that I would definitely want to meet in real life. The author has managed to make me visualize the story like a movie. The two time frames of past and present are also so beautifu...

2014tanjieminchloe: There are some spelling mistakes and the grammar is wrong sometimes but its a really good story love it

Ysul Eropagnis: exactly what I was looking for, complex deep feelings expressed clearly and with an envious accuracy...

pencil: Something pulls at the heart and then distracts and makes it not pull. There is a urgency a haste to read and rally at the schizophrenic mind. But the schizophrenic mind is never sane and it is very unrelenting and not reliable. The images come and go and there is not much one can speak to someon...

eboniprice96: This is a really deep poetry novel but I love it

Sir Nilo: What a remarkable book. Wonderful poems. I can relate to some. Thank you for this amazing book.

jenneyescoto: I'm only six chapters in, yet I'm already hooked. It didn't start too slow nor too fast. It has just enough background information to keep the plot going in a decent pace. There are just some minor grammar mistakes and phrasing that could be easily corrected. Other than that, I'm really enjoying ...

More Recommendations

breeannalovessnakes: hhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaahhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaahhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaahhahahhahahahahaahahahahahahahahahaahahaahaahhahahahahahahaahaahahahahahaahahahahahahhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaa...

Laraine Smith: This should be a movie! :)

chariethomas7: I love the plot line on how it's not just how Elizabeth has to deal the her lover but her ex husband and child. I personally scared that she would get caught with her child but not Ben. I would love if this story can continue. The ending is making me want more.

About Us:

Inkitt is the world’s first reader-powered book publisher, offering an online community for talented authors and book lovers. Write captivating stories, read enchanting novels, and we’ll publish the books you love the most based on crowd wisdom.