Medicine

[violet]

Can't tell if it's morning or evening, the light looks the same
Feels like glass is grating in the cracks of my eyes
I slept for too long, my mouth is almost dusty
I have to get out of bed.

My legs are wobbly. Trying to avoid the random things
on the floor is difficult but i make it to the kitchen
Opening the cupboard is a pain in the ass, i have to
fight with it. Maybe i should oil the hinge.

My eyes sift through stacks of substances
that inhabited my stomach at some point in the past
Malt Vinegar, Tomato Puree, Cinnamon, Hot chocolate
but no coffee. God damn, I need it.

As i step outside of my house, my mind snaps into
a state of 'half-function' because of the cold air
Almost cutting, but not quite.
The crisp mist clings to my face
Sheets and sheets of it, pressed together perfectly
fill my dry mouth and my lungs.

All i can think about is being back in my home
Away from this ankle-biting ice
Spending a ridiculous amount of time choosing a mug
probably opting for the one that's made for soup
just because it's big.

Glad i'm nearly at the shop now.

I inhale slowly, absorbing the feeling
of the sharp chill in my chest. My mouth is like sand-paper
This hot, French roast will be like medicine
Out of nowhere, a thought (or realization) slaps me
in the back of my head with almost the same force
as my mother did when she caught me cursing..

Every time i make a coffee, i spill it,
Why do i always look away when i stir?