morning coffee

In the quiet corners of the morning,

I sip my coffee,

a swirl of thoughts rising with the steam,

wondering what it means to want more,

not just the familiar warmth of routine,

but the wild, untamed heart of potential.

I walk through the bustling streets,

brushing past strangers who never give me a second glance.

It’s familiar to giving my love to those who know my heart,

we’re sitting across from each other,

but it’s like there’s miles of land in between us.

I yell and scream and wave my arms to get their attention,

but we’re so far apart, they hear nothing.

Maybe one day it’ll be okay.

Maybe one day I’ll be seen.