a cup of black coffee

Sitting on my windowsill

watching the raindrops sitting still

until one becomes two and they climb

climb their way down

edging its way to the finish line

away from sight

feeling the breeze brush against my bare skin and seeing the little bumps come alive

grazing my palm across it feeling like braille to the touch

one texture on smooth skin but rugged where the tiny hairs stand

this air is a blank canvas the day is yet to fill and its solely for me to enjoy before the paint dries

what a thrill

as i sit here slowly savouring my cup of black coffee

no sugar no milk

its bitter but warm

bitter but soothing

i’m alive enough to taste it on my tongue

it hugs and envelopes me like a second layer of skin

it comforts me from my fingers to my toes

its the little things in life

i close my eyes

the giant wings on my back spread and i take off into the skies

i open my eyes

i’m still sitting here idly on my windowsill in a small seaside town

savouring my cup of black coffee

watching the rain slowly drip down

i stick my bare arm out the window and witness the rain fall onto my skin

the sensation spikes my senses

its the little things that make me feel alive

the birds will be up soon to do their good morning rounds

its 5am and i’m lacking sleep

but i’ll hum a lacklustre greeting back

sometimes its closer to a weep

i enjoy these moments

i savour them

its the most peace i could ever ask for

there’s as much life in the sky as there is in the dirt

the only life that stands out is a lone firefly dancing under a streetlight

my phone does not demand to be checked every 5 minutes

no one is worried about me

no one expects anything from me

no one disappoints me

it’s just me, my shadow and my 5am thoughts

it’s a sweet feeling

i’m aware in a few hours the world will come alive

and there will be noise yet again but in this moment

i’m alone

and everything is so very quiet

but never completely silent