decaf

notes from a life on repeat

By tatiana vitasPublished about a month ago • Updated about a month ago • 1 min read

He found me downstairs in the early morning.
I was in the kitchen brewing coffee.

If I only knew how to work that pot,
he would still be sleeping softly.

He made love to me,
and then fucked me a few hours ago.

But I imagined you and I believe he knows.

Something about him when he wakes up,
he appears rather lonely.

I force a smile,
hand him his cup,

and I pretend that we are happy.

91113

observational, a little sarcastic, mostly interested in why people lie to themselves.
tatianavitas.com
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