Coffee Stains

I’m like a bird,
unsettled, fluttering
With the unraveling
of my mind and heart.
I think that crying
might be a good start,

I’m diagnosing
if it’s them or me.
Maybe I’m just thinking
a little too hard.
But thinking hard?
That’s an “M.O.” for me.

To try to right myself
out of the haze,
I’ll try to write myself
out of this maze,
While rolled into a ball,
soul sputtering.

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Author: thefragrancewriter

Original Blend of Perfume and Poetry

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