The DR

The DR

A burnt cup of coffee in my hand keeps me from sliding from my chair.

My hand supports my head and the tearful table has dried from my self pity.

The sun has started to rise, pink and purple colors streak the sky causing the billowing clouds to look like
smoke from a celestial structure fire

I hear the bread man calling for his daily patrons to buy his fresh loaves.

Today I will not eat. I will continue to morn for the absence of my lover.

I think off the day to come and last night's sorrow. I smile. I stop loathing and choose to face the day because soon, my lover will come back to me.

Reviews

[Pryde Foltz]

A very personal write. Those two opening lines really reel the reader in. We've all been there and do a fine job of illustrating how it feels. The hope in the morning and the desperation and grief in the evening.