how cruel it is
to be trapped in a mind
who’s only intention
is self destruction.

i don’t like coffee.
too bitter.
too bold.
the kind of thing that leaves its taste behind,
long after it’s gone.

but you—
you didn’t ask me to like it.
you were always patient,
while i slowly sipped it.
and somehow, it started to taste sweet on my tongue,
like something i could get used to.

now i find myself craving the quiet it brings,
the way it lingers— always soft and steady
i still don’t like coffee.
but i’ve grown to love the way it tastes with you.

it’s just another “store run”
i’m sitting in my car.
wondering how so much can change
yet i still feel the same
                                        i’ve dreamt of this day..
                                                 still, i sit in my car.
                         waiting for another silly sunday
                               to feel like more than a wave
                              of disappointment and dread