A Cup of Sorrow

His memories, like coffee, sweet and cold A flavor that lingers, young and old But like a bitter roast, they pierce my soul A heart once full, now empty and whole In the night, he said, coffee's warm delight Would chase the shadows, and make everything right But he became my coffee, a love that wasn't true A flavor that turned bitter, with a love that didn't shine through They ask me why I'm pale, a ghostly, lovesick frame Do I still love him? Yes, I whisper, with a heart in flames How much? They ask, and I smile, a sad, ironic grin Does it matter now? That love didn't make him stay within His memories haunt me, a bittersweet refrain My heart bleeds, and I cry, but he's not here to wipe away the pain I've painted him as the villain, a way to escape the heartache Hating him, the only way to heal, to find my way, to awake