tea & coffee

April 4, 2014
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there isn’t enough coffee
in this pot anymore
and I’ve searched all the empty spaces in me
but I’m still not quite sure

where all this tired came from
all I do is dream of running
pulse in my ears like a silent drum
while I sit, still, stirring

cold tea in a ceramic mug
not feeling the scrape
tarnished spoons and my pale pink lungs that tug
at the metallic tape

you used
to try, to save me.

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