There’s a continent on my coffee.
A very literal wake up call.
Even my morning is trying to tell me
it’s time to change, leave, evolve.
Shed the old skin, grow a new one.
Become someone else.
Someone less afraid.
Someone less who I am and more who I want to be.
The coffee tastes as bitter as denial.
Everything around me is screaming at me
and I am trying to outvoice it with my distractions.
How long can I ignore this hollow existence I created for myself?
How long can I survive instead of live?
There’s a continent on my coffee,
and I am stuck in one place, geographically and spiritually.
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