I wrote a new poem last night

it's cold here today-- finalmente el invierno ha llegado

"coffee & toast"

There is a part of me that wants to disappear into endless cups of coffee. 

coffee & toast

coffee & toast

compulsively

I'm not hungry for other things;

nothing sounds good

nothing sates me

That bitter acid taste is addictive as I wanter from thought to thought, my mind won't quiet. 

Even now I'm imagining how were were able to fall in love in some 6th dimension because we can transcend time, 

The taste left in my mouth after being with you has that same acidic bite that is so addictive.

coffee & toast

coffee & toast

Random moments of happiness, contentment, or fit's of glee with out a common trend. 

How can I pursue my happiness if I can't even identify it?

"pursuit of happiness" like it's something that can be finalized;

checked off a list

So much coffee my jaw aches with caffeinated tension

my check marks have come off the pages and are forming a structure. 

Not a tree or a building, 

it has begun to move and

survive without me. 

I no longer know what it wants

me to do. 

Is it late enough to switch to wine?

A softer acid, the same bitterness I need to feel across the back of my tongue. 

Even now my toast is covered with fake olive oil butter because someone told me it was good for me

Just like when they've told me again and again what should make me happy

to the point that trying to find real personal happiness leaves me 

so strung out on caffeine I can't finish a thought

coffee & toast 

coffee & toast

over stimulated and alone in an effort to find what will sate me and what really sounds good.