Black, With One Sugar

I take off my glasses

Leave the lights on, pull a blanket over my face

Nestle the mug of hot coffee between my hands, hoping to steal some warmth

And try to shut out all thought

It's a ritual

I peer into the coffee and see nothing

I take in the strong, familiar scent

Then tilt the mug to my lips, swirl the coffee around in my mouth

Long enough for it to leave all bitterness behind

And as I swallow

Both, the hot coffee and the burning thoughts

I feel pin picks of warmth

And even as I'm trying to drown out the voices in my head, I drown in them

Thinking of everything and nothing, and all that lies in between

Video calls with my mom, how pmsing women are legally insane, rum cakes and Christmas

Lasagna cravings and orgasms

The lipstick I just ordered

Cheese dripping down the side of my mouth, cuticle oil 

And the friend whose birthday notification I saw on Facebook but forgot to call

The rest of my coffee cools

So do my thoughts

I can see the dim light through the blanket

I'm clutching the mug in both hands

But it doesn't warm me anymore

I can somehow still feel the press of the thick glasses against my nose

I peer into the mug again

And see nothing

Think nothing

It's just a ritual, you see.