sunken eyes
i watched them
in silent rooms.
breathing people
nothing but
the vents breathing
their moan of
churning gears

brittle bones
i arose to
black and cream elixir
the orange sun peaking over
black branch silhouette
a sight for tired eyes

helpless hands
gripping the red glazed mug
emanating peaceful warmth
unlike the heat of the words
burned in the back of my mind

6:12 a.m
trying not to think
deep breaths
sips of coffee
remembering
how to forget
seems to be
the hardest thing after all

he who
made living a lot less terrifying
seems abstract in my mind now
not solid, not there,
maybe he was a daydream after all

craving sustenance
the only thing that is for sure
is the orange
fading into pink, fading into blue
like the only thing i’ve ever know,
the bottom of the red mug
peaks at me
still warm in my hands,
but not like your reminiscent hand