On a wooden table nested between purple flowers
A little cup of coffee sits
By a window perched on a bar stool
Fiddling with the cup, in the palms of her hands, sits a girl
She woke up this morning in a hurry to meet you
Took 3 buses to get to you
Because you made plans weeks ago, but you never showed up
And now this girl is left hopelessly thinking
“What’s the rush to being rejected?”
The barista came by, asked her if she was waiting on someone
No one important
because waiting on you is like reading the same paragraph three times
And never understanding a single word
They asked her if she’d like another cup, anything to eat
She can see the pity in their eyes
They can see past her faux smile
She doesn’t have an appetite, but accepts another cup
They filled it to the brim
Maybe its warmth will fill the cold inside her chest
