Thirsting for a sense of autonomy from society,
I sit here and linger.
Sit here in front of a coffee cup and linger.

The coffee is cold,
I am still trapped
and realities continue to rape my rudimentary schedules.


Headaches. Oversleeping. Black coffee.


Sometimes I wake up in the morning feeling free,
other times, the opposite.
A bird, singing in hopes to enjoy the fresh fruits of life,
but only receiving dried fruit from bird feed.
A caged bird wanting to fly
only to realize her wings are clipped and opportunity just left the premises.

Rants and headaches.
I overslept.

Black coffee cures all.

-Mon