Caffeine Addiction

Perhaps I shouldn’t have drank that last bit, perhaps I should have used a mug instead of chugging straight from the pot.

Perched upon a rock hard mattress, swimming in fluffy blankets and a mountain of pillows my nerves dance to the macarena, provoking my hands to shudder at a violent rate. Blood now deep smoky brown, swimming with creamers and granulated sugars pumping legal drugs through comatose veins. Meth would be more efficient but difficult to get a hold of, and more lethal. Wide eyes lined with deep purple bags, too lazy to hide them beneath drugstore concealers and too addicted to sleep them away.

What harm can one more cup do?