This is how I start my day


She reluctantly pulls herself

from the grasp of early morning’s sweet sleep

and puts two feet on the floor, exposed to the mid-November chill

with no socks or slippers to buffer the cold.



She sits at a stoplight,

left foot taps the floor- an anxiety that drips through her nerves

Always seems to be late,

she sips her Stewart’s coffee

hoping the 16 ounces of caffeine and creme

will remedy her sleepy eyes.



Twenty pairs of blank eyes stare

into the desolate center of the classroom,

they wait for someone else to speak.

Her paper cup empty, but she still waits

for her bittersweet beverage to take hold.



Nibbles on a bagel, smiles at the cute

boy who sells her breakfast in this silly

small cafe. Shes scrawling out a poem

that will never hit the screen

forcing herself to toe the line between

reality and her dreams.


10:30 am

Her day has truly begun,

She leaves the dreamy morning hours

and continues to go to class

without the mystic poetry that flows

through her synapse and out her hand.


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