Traces of yesterday hang in the air,

Simple reminders of the night before.

My tongue burns as the steaming wave of mocha hits it.

My eyes sting as I choke it down.

But I need this; I need to stay awake.

An image, a memory from my hellish slumber,

Flashes briefly before my eyes,

As I run my shaking hand through my unkempt hair,

And force down another gulp of the vile drink.

I can’t drift off; can’t let the sleep in,

For with it comes a nightmare,

A taunting, nightly memory

That makes my life a living hell.

No, I can’t let the sleep in yet.