what is love?
is it the mug of coffee,
cold and bitter,
that greets me every morning?
is it the burnt toast,
lacking butter,
atop a plastic dish
meant for the dead dog?
is it the noteless table
that fails to remind me
of her morning disappearances
every single day?
is it the blemished newspaper
stained with her
chunks of nutella?
is it the silence,
my lone companion,
as i briskly eat alone?
is it the grandfather clock
that pleads me
to just move on?
or is it simply
this undying hope
that maybe, maybe
she'll come home again?
A/N: This was inspired by the pieces written by KHResurreccion and MissAlmostGrown, which are "Most Important" and "Coffee Love(r)". You could check them out if you want to.
:)
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