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Early Morning

Poetry

By Emma PatrickPublished 6 years ago 1 min read
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Hiding behind a black cup of coffee,

Bitter,

Smooth,

Scratchy morning throat.

It burns just enough so I don't spill out all of my secrets from the days before all out in the open.

In the morning I don't care,

I'm too restless,

Anxious for the day ahead.

I would spill all of those secrets,

All of those nothingness thoughts you probably won't care to hear.

I thought you didn't hear.

Before I know it's all held as leverage over my head.

So here I stay behind my now cold cup of black coffee.

sad poetry
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