Coffee Morning

One of those mornings,

when the scent of coffee envelopes you

luring your lips to its hot and placid surface

and the jumble of your thoughts still silent.

I keep putting off and procrastinating

leaving a lot for the last minute;

at times its like wearing a cone collar

there’s an itch somewhere, but I just can’t get it.

Get up, do the makeup, keep your chin up,

buck up so you aren’t a fuck up,

and shut up.

I’m fed up.

Once the blood vessels begin to dilate

the volume grows louder,

the chattering noise of humanity comes back

into the psychic eardrums.

The labor and delay of compartmentalizing

because it is over done

is part of the reason I keep drinking coffee.

I have no complaints. 
I love coffee.

Kelly Mastros is a former Midwesterner that lives in the Sunshine State where she writes poetry and observational essays. She studied English Literature and Sociology at the University of Central Florida, and has informally studied people for years. A wife and mother of wily felines, she spends her free time advocating for mental health awareness and sampling chocolate chip cookies. Kelly maintains a personal blog at

Related Posts

If you enjoyed this, you might also enjoy these