stir and wait 2-3 minutes

powdered coffee sludge, down my throat like sand, but my mood won't fucking budge.

now I've gone back to juvenile writings and scrawlings on the walls. cold burns to the cheeks, heat runs down my gullet. pushing the feeling away.

eventually back up it, onto the freezing sidewalk. my feeble attempt at a functional breakfast upended next to a couple frosty dandelions, holding onto life in a crack of cement. fuck. they're just like me