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Coffee Stained
Long after the sun fell asleep
you and I would fill our time-worn coffee mugs with promises of a future with a little more sugar and milk.
I always tried to ignore the way our honey-colored false hope would spill over the sides,
burning and staining my fingers,
because I thought listening to the cadence of your heartbeat
dancing to an espresso song was true bliss.
It's always our most idealistic, beautiful promises
that are the hardest to grind up into a dark,
pacifying brew
But that’s okay.
After all, my mother always taught me to drink my coffee dark
because you only find the truth in its
purest,
harshest,
form.
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This piece is about feeling emotionally used by people you trust, finding truth, and feeling for what it is clearly. I've been in a couple of friendships and romantic relationships where I became highly invested in another person when they weren't there for me at all. I spent months denying that the things this person was doing to me were harmful. Writing this helped me recognize the toxicity of the relationship I was in and I hope maybe it can help you too.