Rooms filthy from all the sorrow.
Trashcans filled with tissues filled with
snot. Dark circles dyed under every eye.
Dead skin cells, bits of nails from
nervous nibbling coat all we can see
(and all we can’t).
This is what we’ve come to:
watered-down worst-coffee-ever since
the cup of coffee yesterday from the same kind
of place, poured out and prayed over,
even by those who don’t pray; even by those who
never drank coffee before coming here; even by those
who still don’t drink coffee, but like to hold a cup
so they can feel less alone.
about the author:
Samantha Madway is engaged in the lengthy process of transcribing hundreds of pages of her writing from barely legible blue ink into reader-friendly (twenty-first-century) Times New Roman type. She loves her dogs, Freddie, Charlie, and Parker, more than anything else in the universe. Visit her online at https://www.facebook.com/srmadwaypens or https://twitter.com/SamanthaMadway.