The waitress shuffles from table to table like a reluctant time traveller.
A crumpled napkin.
Straws.
A name badge with a coffee stain.

Seasons feel the same
So do sun and rain i'd
Really like to stay and chat but
I think i should abstain

use me
lose me
mentally abuse me

i can't tell what i want from myself
if i want anything at all
if im wasting time
making my skin crawl