Every morning when I wake up,
I make myself a cup of coffee,
Turn on my kettle and sit still in the corner of this dark room,
Thinking to myself, “it’s just another day.”

I slowly play inside my head like a movie on a loop,
Over and over and over again,
Days that I have woken up next to you,
Days where your face was the first thing I see.

I hear the kettle’s sound go off,
And I stand and pour hot water into a cold cup,
The way I would like my heart to be doused with your warmth,
Because I’m starting to feel cold like the coming winter.

I grab my jar of coffee and a spoon,
I stared at the sugar for a good second,
Thinking I might want it sweet today,
But on second thought I don’t.

So here I am at 6:30 in the morning,
Binge drinking on black coffee,
All I can taste since you left is nothing but bitterness,
Much like this cup of coffee.

So I try to pace myself,
Thinking maybe it’ll be okay,
That this cup will soon wake up from this nightmare,
But to no avail. It is my life now. Cold and bitter.