brewed was my heart
marinated in the thought of loving you
couldn’t quit while you were ahead
had to care for you
more than what I had led
you to believe
And here we are back to the beginning. Where was I? Yes, brewing a cup of tea and meditating. Blowing steam like it’s a rolling fog across a boiling sea and questioning if this is a proper smoke signal or not. But the thing is this: it’s as the writing on the wall. The subterfuge was context. The iteration of which we call, in conscious circles, subtext. But I walked away from this too. The world is weaving before me and I aim to side step the craters as I see fit.
I woke up this morning with the smell of freshly brewed coffee steaming into my bedroom. It was an unfamiliar thing to wake up to. Not because I didn’t like coffee, but because it meant that someone was with me. Some beautiful lady had spent the night. I crawled out of bed, landed my feet on the cold floor, and shuffled out to reintroduce myself to whomever was there with me all night.
I felt the thought brewing in my head, “Where would I be if not here?” and found no answer. Oh how it would feel to be a bird, to be free, to go wherever I pleased.
beer of titanic crush
my crush has a crush
on somebody else
thats fine
thats ok
Silence. That is all there was. And by the time I had actually figured out what I wanted to say, you had walked away.
brewed was my heart
marinated in the thought of loving you
couldn’t quit while you were ahead
had to care for you
more than what I had led
you to believe
And here we are back to the beginning. Where was I? Yes, brewing a cup of tea and meditating. Blowing steam like it’s a rolling fog across a boiling sea and questioning if this is a proper smoke signal or not. But the thing is this: it’s as the writing on the wall. The subterfuge was context. The iteration of which we call, in conscious circles, subtext. But I walked away from this too. The world is weaving before me and I aim to side step the craters as I see fit.
Drink, the finest brew around. In this life of lies, might as well enjoy this.
I woke up this morning with the smell of freshly brewed coffee steaming into my bedroom. It was an unfamiliar thing to wake up to. Not because I didn’t like coffee, but because it meant that someone was with me. Some beautiful lady had spent the night. I crawled out of bed, landed my feet on the cold floor, and shuffled out to reintroduce myself to whomever was there with me all night.
I felt the thought brewing in my head, “Where would I be if not here?” and found no answer. Oh how it would feel to be a bird, to be free, to go wherever I pleased.