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Raven Tipton

If you don't learn to write your own story, someone else will write it for you

5 poems·Since August 2015
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Wake Me Up

January 13, 2016

All I need is one thing.

One thing.

One beautiful thing.

Coffee, coffee is that beautiful thing.

The view of the brown, ungrinded beans. 

Waiting to be crushed and cooked.

Finally pulverized and into a filter.

Add water and wait.

Waiting for the scent to reach my nose.

Waiting to hear the machine work.

Taking the cherished life of the beans and keeping it for itself.

I pour the extracted brown beauty and pour it into my mug.

First waft the smell into my noise and add to the beauty in my cup.

Second take a tongue scalding sip and enjoy the warmth.

Enjoy the instant energy rushing through my body.

But wait, I'm on an island.

Stranded from everyone, but surrounded by the sea.

No, no, no, wait let me think.

No electricity, no coffee.

No coffee grinder, no coffee.

No cup, no coffee,

No coffee.

No coffee.

I can't see myself without coffee.

Coffee is all I have to live for 

No coffee, no me.

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