I take little sips of known ,
I sink it all in ,
I taste a bittersweet happiness,
Along with the coffee that feels like a memory,
I sit , I sip.
I switch sides ,
Trying to be anything otherwise,
Trying to remember that last coffee,
Of another day ,of a lost memory.
I seek to see ,
To try and ignore ,
Wanting to unknow.
I wait to forget , only to remember another regret .
I take a sip of this bittersweet memory ,
Watching with content another sun set,
Accompanied by sighing silence and a cup of coffee .
He is a waste of space .He paces around the four walls all day,moving into them as easily as he could move out. Waiting, thinking and smiling into nothingness. The shadows look through him and the people look into him.To him none of this matter other than those eyes. Those luminous green eyes that seek him, haunt him, lure him. It’s the madness that ignores him and the ignorance that engulfs him.
He vows never to go back yet he never looks beyond either .He drifts to nowhere, changing sides and flipping places like the two sides of a pancake. He stops occasionally, but only for the mere mortals to call out to him and say “Look there ! There he is, he is a waste of space.”