so I noticed that we both drink coffee.
just like anyone, we both like ours a certain way.
i like mine sweeter, with just the aftertaste of coffee there.
caramel, sugar, creamer.
i think about when i’ll have my next cup, and the idea of it alone makes me happy.
i don’t care what time of day i have it, i almost always have a cup.
i make time for my coffee.
it might be safe to say i think you like your coffee black.
you might add just the smallest touch to soften its bitter taste, but never too much.
sometimes i think you just pour it and carry on, as though it’s nothing important at all.
as though all it is, is just some quick fix.
like you just want to get it over with.
we drink it in two different ways.
i drink it slowly.
i note every flavor in every sip, i enjoy it.
i note the warmth it brings me.
i like it all hours of the day.
you drink it quickly.
quicker than me, at least.
you don’t care if it burns your tongue, or perhaps you’re used to the pain.
you accept it.
you never let it last, you move on to something else soon after.
i lay in your bed, watching your eyes as they skim the screen in front of you.
your mind is somewhere else.
i savor the moments you look my way, if even for a second, and smile at me.
i wonder if you even notice them.
i feel your laugh vibrate my bones, making the hair on my arms stand on end.
do i make you feel at all?
i reflect on it every time i drink my coffee.
i think about it with each and every sip, taking my time.
something tells me that you don’t do the same.
after all, it's just coffee.
but i put my all into this coffee.
i think you like your coffee black.

Have you heard about this brute beast that lives in these parts
Restless, he roams, goalless yet he thwarts
A lot of people have encountered some never lived to see the day
Where the monster decide to move past and mind be swayed

However that monster was not feared because of its relentless attacks
Neither it was because of his horrifying expression when he appears
But because of its presence, everyone is taken aback
And with the arrival of such a beast, one's guile might disappear

Face it or fear for your stability

For he is the leviathan that never attacks, he never uses force
However, he just stands there and mocks, yet your actions become coarse
Be brave, young warrior, face the foe at hand
Before you crumble your foundation that suddenly became sand

Face the creature and you will see, your might renewed and goals are clear
Those who do not become a prisoner of life, the ones who cower in fear

Yet, here why do one hesitate, you ask?

Because in the end, we are all being attacked at once
And your actions are watched by your loved ones.
Then you realize, it's not the monster that confronted you that you should be afraid
It's the monster that lives inside every person's mind that you should keep in check.

If I swam among the fish
would you spear me like you do the rest?

If I swam among the trout
Would you dive in and pull me out
A splash, a step, and then a leap
Under the water, this body would retreat
If the weight of the sea could pull me down
How long would it take for me to reach the ground
In the deep water, I would lay
Waiting for a light to show me the way
North, South, East, or West
I wouldn’t have I clue, just a guess
If you would dive in you would see
We’re in a world of lost identity

Jealousy is more than a word
It's a thirsty pain
That rushes through my veins
To drain each drop of blood.
Wnen I see the pillow that escorts your head
The bed that embraces you in your weariness
And the lips that form a heart-robbing smile.
Jealousy is strange.
I wouldn't wish to have you split in two.
One for me and one for you
I want all of you
Living inside of my chest.
It has a way of making me become you.

I’ve forgotten what freedom tastes like,
the substance that used to dance around my taste buds,
pulling me in,
a comforting arm around my shoulders

I used to think it would last,
that I’d forever be filled to the brim with glee,
but here I am now,
no freedom in taste

The arm has disappeared,
it faded away over time,
much like all things do,
and with it, it took my bottle of freedom

The hole that I sit is no longer bright,
everything I see is dull,
everything I smell is dull,
and everything I taste is dull

I miss the colors,
the scents,
and the freedom

I took freedom for granted,
and now I’m stuck here,
wishing for just one last drip

The dogs above me
bark until I shut
them out. A metaphorical
strangulation of purity.
A weary progression
toward insanity.
Bukowski sits beside
me. Limp with the
dread of life
as I flip through his words.
I cannot find myself
because I am wearing my
lover’s socks and
praying to a god I know
does not listen.