Coffee Shop

It's interesting to see 

the different motions people make

as they discuss different aspects

of their life within a coffee shop.

It's as though the shop

is a parallel world,

holding secrets of the gossip

stuck on the lips of women

and, yes of course, men.

The customers sit,

nodding their heads to every

expression and statement

their partner is mumbling.

You can hear the chatter of conversation,

like the sound effects of a video game, 

the natural sound of a coffee shop.

Coffee is enjoyable. 

People's insignificant chatter is as well. 

The smell of bitterness,

the smell of disdained.

As for me,

the indifference of it all.

Someone Else

Pretending to be someone is quite a thrill.
I can't even handle being myself,
being another person kicks the breath out of me.
I can't breath.

I become someone else,
The air penetrates my lungs.
I can breath.
Pretending to be someone is undyingly boring.



Habits are fulfilling
Addictions are satisfying.

I remember

I remember what it felt like
looking at him sleep beside me.
I remember what it felt like
as I stood there looking through him.

I received the oddest sensation,
as I was laying there.
It was as though my life
was shattered glass on a tile floor.
I could not see it as a whole,
but through opaque pieces of
what was or what could have been.

As I stood there struggling
with the words to keep myself safe,
I realized I was just protecting you.

Now, I feel alone.
I want to feel secure.

'Somewhere' - Nicholas Ménard

At least there is another who feels somewhat similar to me. 

Ironic people

The thing about being ironic
is that the only kryptonite
is the mere diligence
and profound seriousness
of trying to becoming the
perfect you.

But in all honesty,
this pathetic act of
attempting to be humorous
or empathic towards others
is so deeply artificial
that if you were not ironic,
then you would have no
"catch" to your throw.