again, coffee

i stir my coffee
by the porch
and close my eyes for the wind on my face;
it's comforting,
like my daily dose of half-truths from you.

as always
i settle on the overrated,
on the things that hurt the most
on the things that make me feel alive.

then at night,
i fight these monsters.
i never win
but it goes on and on
and i end up sleeping with them.

it's a cycle that keeps going around
like coffee
being stirred.