the only bad part
about enjoying coffee in the morning
is the moment when
there are naught but dregs in the bottom
and you have to admit
there is no more coffee to drink
in your mug.
[but, if you’re lucky, there’s more in the pot
where it all came from
and you can enjoy more
right there and then
from whence the first cup came from,
or in an hour (or so)
if you prefer your coffee
cold]
why
do i so often feel like
coffee is my only friend?
i have many close companions,
even more friendly acquaintances
that i’ve bared my soul to
at a moment or two,
but when left to my own tired devices
in early mornings or late late nights
with no one around
i think to myself “coffee, you’re the only one
i can turn to,
the only one
who understands
the truth of my heart
and the heart of my mind”
it’s so silly to think this way
about an inanimate
ingestible
thing
[whose main cause for being
is the caffeine, which barely affects me
so…even sillier, it seems
to pray at the altar of this
bitter black bean juice
but damn, that seems to be
my only religion
and i stand by it]
coffee
and cold brew
are like old friends i come back to
every single morning
and though ‘old companions’ are more likely to be ones
whom you don’t see for months or years at a time
it really does feel like a hug that has been waiting
for at least 365 days
when i take that first sip in the morning
drinking coffee
to stave off depression
to stave off existentialism
to stave off the dread
that invades my very being
[but it actually helps the anxiety along
which isn’t great
so there’s that…]
at least there’s coffee
with the perfectionism
that stops my creative endeavors
at the beginnings of their journeys
at least there’s coffee
with my obsessive scrolling
and inability to
stop myself
at least there’s coffee
with the depression hounding me
day in and day out
and day out and day in
at least there’s coffee
when the world is dying
and humanity is giving me very little hope
that we’re anything but terror
on the earth’s surface
at least there’s coffee
at least there’s coffee
that first sip of coffee
when one is extremely tired
is like the first breath of fresh air
after a held breath
is like opening eyes behind glasses
for the first time
is like a warm summer storm
to wash off everything unneeded
[if only the second and third sips
could remain just as
enlightening]
even though you’re feeling sad
drink the coffee
do the writing
even though everything feels hopeless
drink the coffee
make the plans
even though you’d rather sleep and sleep and sleep
drink the coffee
do the day
little bursts of serotonin
may or may not add up
into an almost livable amount
of serotonin
for one mind
but at least those little bursts of serotonin
will help
for a second
or two
so
even thought it all seems so pointless
drink the coffee
eat the cookie
write the poem
talk with the spouse
play with the puppy
get out of the house
and fake it till you make it:
life edition.
~~~
yikes.
(the feels that made
that poem)
~~~
wanderlust
wanderhome
wander to me
go right now
i am waiting
arms outstretched
to feel you in them
once again
wanderlust
wanderhome
wander towards
never feeling
so alone.
kipventures 