My eyelids are heavier than the coffee pot every morning, Iāve made enough for two but you prefer tea. You prefer leaves, sweet or not like you prefer me near or far. Which is to say you donāt really care for me, or where I am. This steaming cup of reality I say Iāll drink once cooled, sits on the table as I wait for you to tell me what you promised youād say. The cup never cools and you donāt make a sound
Snippet from a poem Iāll probably never finish (via isaacwrites)














