coffee stains

I don’t like to drink coffee, it intensifies my anxiety 

or maybe it makes me more aware;

to uncover when i thought i was already bare.

got to fill my schedule up wth tasks;

can’t have time to simply sit.

because sitting turns into thinking

and thinking turns into emptiness.

i don’t like to reminisce;

better to just move forward,

even if i don’t want to dwell with the present moment.

justifying i’m ok,

i don’t need any more therapy;

my therapist talks too much anyway.

nothing I really got to say.

been listening to macklemore,

pretty sad when you relate to someone you don’t even know

better than your own roommates.

I always feel like I’ve got to owe;

I’ve got to work for your acceptance.

you say that it’s not true,

but why are you mad when i fall through.

When you start to suspect somethings wrong,

that’s where my best act comes on.

I apologize for being distant.

give some excuse that sounds consistent

with my actions.

wonder if my parents ever question,

why their kindle cue is filled with books

searching for happiness.

or something to give life meaning.

these phrases reflect my mind;

scattered, disorganized.

but at least i’m done denying where I’m at.

it’s the first step in recovery.

This poem is about: 
Me
My family
My community

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