Eventually the caffeine dies down,
and you're left with
shaky hands
and
a shaky mind, so no
difference from before;
except now your heart is racing
just as quick as
your mind, and the fake
energy fills you up
for a while longer
but
it wears off, and you're
just as awake as before, but
at least this time you have
an excuse,
right?
YOU ARE READING
An Amalgamation of Words
PoetryI'm almost as bad at writing descriptions as I am at writing poems, but at least I tried. Sharing my inner turmoil, one poorly worded sentence at a time.
