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Coffee This work has been published in the Teen Ink monthly print magazine.

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   Orange sun peeks above the trees

on my way to the bus station

to take the 6 a.m. bus to the city.

I turn my back to the right,

I turn my back to the left,

one to the other.

Then I walk forward and step off the bus ...

sidewalk caf" with red checkered tablecloths ...

I sit down and order an Espresso

and fill my mug with milk

while I wait impatiently ...

I can't wait to see you,

but then I know what I have to do.

I see you looking around the caf",

and I get up and run away

while you call my name.

I run all the way to the bus station ...

2 p.m. bus to the country ...

I'm disappointed, but I do not cry.



This is good.

This is my real life now.

I am happy. I will be.

I sit down by the window in the dark -

You can see out better that way ...

2 a.m. and I am happy.

These are tears of happiness

running down my face.

This is good - I'm washing my eyes.

In the kitchen I make myself a decaf

and I drink it black, the way I hate it.

This is real life; No sugar added.

Bitter.




This work has been published in the Teen Ink monthly print magazine. This piece has been published in Teen Ink’s monthly print magazine.






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