This is not a poem
And I am not a poet
It doesn't have a good rhythm
And I don't know what to do about it

It tries to be wholesome
But feels hollow and empty
Like I'm trying to emote
When there's nothing inside

This couldn't be a poem
It doesn't have a perceived meaning
Or does it?

This couldn't be a poem
It doesn't evoke emotions
It doesn't make you think

I'm a lot of things
Empty and jaded; vacant and listless
Depressed, anxious, and rife with sickness
Unsure of what's to come

But the one certainty
That even I can understand
Is that I am not a poet
And this is not a poem

And here I am pleading

I want you to love me
The way you loved your coffee

I want you to accept me
Despite of my bitter taste
Or my cold face

I want you to be comfortable
With my heat

I want you to need me
Every morning when you wake up

I want you to love me
Until my last drop