The coffee is never quite as warm
as I would like it to be,
but I accept its lukewarm comfort.

I wish that here were there
and there were here,
but here is also fine, I suppose.

I want to read in silence
and move to raucous music —
anything but being still,
though still is not a bad state of being.

I don’t look back
because that path bores me,
and while I am content with now,
I’m anxious for when.

There’s never enough sleep,
although I can’t say I’m tired.

There’s never enough
and too much
of any and all of it.


Leave a comment

Filed under Uncategorized

Leave a Reply

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in: Logo

You are commenting using your account. Log Out /  Change )

Google+ photo

You are commenting using your Google+ account. Log Out /  Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out /  Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out /  Change )


Connecting to %s