sugared, milky coffee; it's that

familiar (dis)taste of failure

(because she only drinks it when

self control slips away), and

nicotine and alcohol balance out to

insomnia, she says, when asked,

but it sounds like a swear word from

unpainted lips, and

when each sip increases

bruised eyelids and

late night TV blurs to interesting,

she tells her mum it's decaffeinated.

A/N: There's something not right with this, but I can't figure it out, sorry.