ice cold coffee
somewhere in december.
so, i wonder in this trawl
how did i wander in this trap again?
another family on my shoulder
maybe to compensate with what my parents removed
and maybe to see life without the bad days
yet, someday..
this wild, wild grass on my back would leave
with traces of soil, rooting back to who i am beneath
and all, the green, green flags would tarnish
to reveal the brittleness of my being
we’ve gone honest, we’ve gone honest
ice cold coffe
somewhere in november
not a month back, but a year after
i lie on this bed
i wonder again
this day,
the wildest grass grew thorns
with traces of blood that began to mourn
who would have known? other than God
standing with no speech, somehow rude to begin with
the moon was crescent, the night was cold
the breeze was old, the death was young
ice cold coffee
awakening my sleeping soul
disrupting the hatred, mending the unbroken