i wake up at 11 am,
with eyeliner stains
under my eyes.
a yawn is what the
world gets from me
first thing in the morning.
it's what it'll get
at the end of the day.

i don't read the paper,
i don't watch the news.
i'm pretty less concerned
about what's going on,
which makes me feel
negligent towards the world.
but i know i'm not alone.

and of course there is
that obligatory part of
the day when i seem
to have all the time in
the world to dread going
to work and have so little
time dragging myself out
of bed.

and as the day progresses,
or regresses,
there is that time when i
wish i drank coffee.
no sugar, no creamer.
black.

but when i go home,
the night has taken over
and the lights are turned off,
when i hear him breathing beside me,
with my head on his chest,
i'm alright.

he keeps me sane,
and at the end of the day,
the both of us are all that matters,
if not to the world,
then at least to me.

i really don't need coffee.

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