the coffee gets colt
there are days, occasional Fridays, when you’re the greatest hero of the world
sitting in your kitchen at 1:05 pm and watching how your second coffee gets cold
nobody sees this
nobody reads your mind
as you think about your father’s Colt,
the number of with you’d forget just like you forgot
the single night shot
you savor the sip of the coffee and it tastes like
“isn’t it what i’ve told?”
and — you ha(v)te to admit it — your life’s exactly what he’s told.
the coffee gets cold
the coffee gets cold.
you feel like a came-home soldier
with the unbearable weight on your shoulder
you might probably die if you don’t lose up your pajama’s suit
you might probably cry if you make yourself think that “it’s all for the good”
but it’s all for the good
isn’t it?
there’s no one waiting for you, only the quiet neighborhood,
and the memories of the things that you could
should do
would
they’re scaring you
there’s dust you have to clean, there is someone ( your mom ) who you should call,
there are enough things to not do any of them at all
watching the coffee gets cold
watching the coffee gets cold
you still live in the moment of the shot,
of the sirens of the ambulance,
paramedic going through your white picket fence
uncaring,
quick,
you think it might even fall
while the coffee gets cold
the coffee gets cold
to not think, to make yourself stop
you take your old laptop
and there it goes, the hardest, the greatest battle of all
( the coffee gets cold )
the googling
“is it bad to sit and just stare at the wall?”
“what is the potion to—“
“what’s the”
“where to find a cheap version of liquor top-shelf?”
“how do you kill yourself”
“the easiest way to slip a throat”
“why do i still hear the shot
of the night
when my father took his life????”
“what if every time i’m fine
it’s a lie?”
“what if it’s a crime of me to be alright?”
a lie
alright
a lie
but alright,
it’s such a pity:
nobody sees the greatest war
happening while the coffee gets cold
in between the question what’s for
and staring at the wall.
sometimes on occasional Fridays, you become a world’s silent soldier
that has to unpack that burden, the folder
the greatest soldier
“killing you—“
“the reason of unreasonable shivering”
you untype it until it goes
“cheap food delivery”