having coffee

I see lives fly apart from silent explosions

behind slammed doors;

Sanctuaries of sadness

hiding pieces of people.

They are not whole, not single;

Jagged halves with jaded hearts;

Flapping, flailing and fragmented;

Restless and ringless,

Just having coffee and words

about the mindless mayhem

that can’t become a memory.

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4 thoughts on “having coffee”

      1. I did pause and mull over your phrase “restless and ringless.” Clever, really. Yep, I do know the feeling. Sometimes I’d find the need to develop an entire piece out of a single sighting, or upon learning a new word with a unique meaning. 🙂

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