Coffee Shop Sessions

Month: November 2020

  • Don’t Walk In Anger

    I twist in the night, in anger. I wake in the morning, in anger. I know the dreams are just dreams but the aching is tangible, it’s at the forefront that I can’t shake. It’s too early to feel this way, with holes punctured through the heart. A feeling that I’ve been used as target…

    Read more: Don’t Walk In Anger

  • You’re So Sentimental

    he says as it relates to a date of another first we’ve had. It reminds me of things I shouldn’t hold onto. It shouldn’t matter when I first noticed the way light hits his beard, or how his colors blend as in a Monet, only that I see them. It shouldn’t matter when those butterflies…

    Read more: You’re So Sentimental

  • Who Has Your Tongue

    I mull over the quietness,the licking of thoughtscollected and trapped inside,blocking airwaves. Only things that escapeare the redirects,anything to take the focusoff of what can’t be seen. They’ll have to perform surgeryto get this out of me.

    Read more: Who Has Your Tongue

  • It Can Be Wonderful and Terrible, But It Always Tickles the Right Spot

    The way grey hits the wooly fibers across his chin, like individual spikes of a wheel poking in multiple directions, with fusing colors like a Monet. I graze my fingers through the fibers like walking through cornfields with long, mysterious paths that lead to depths I long to uncover. He rests his hand upon his…

    Read more: It Can Be Wonderful and Terrible, But It Always Tickles the Right Spot

  • Speak for the Trees

    tears fall from the tips of leaves, no longer heaving but finally at peace, no longer a place for relief, no longer bending to the constant breeze, no longer kept afloat meandering rivers, no longer subject to raging fires, no longer a victim to defeat. tides no longer pulling at the heart, stars no longer…

    Read more: Speak for the Trees

  • Fallen Pieces

    An accelerated pull, or a pushing forward, disregarding the existence of brakes.A collapse into fallen leaves and twigs.A slow pluck of fallen pieces.Looking up into the sway of the trees, between a glimmer of light.Dodging, swerving away from becoming a future target.Do I rise and escape these fallen pieces?Or do I bask in the moment…

    Read more: Fallen Pieces