october 16, 2009

this music. this mood. this state of self.
at least the coffee's flowing.
nothing else much is.
with words left unspoken, a bitter fragrance permeates my mind.
and there is no where to put that.
where do i put that.
what do i do with bitterness and frustrated lines.
the words need to be formed, in order to even let go.
but i can't bring myself to even speak.
it takes too much energy to be angry. upset. frustrated. hurt.
and the coffee isn't that strong.
which reflects on me.
i made it.
weak.
on purpose maybe.
always maybes.
never certain.
but i'm certain that i need to purge this mood.
this weight.
i'm certain that while it's raining outside, i can find the sunshine, again.
if i care to.

perhaps tomorrow, i'll care to.