
Steam rises,
soft and slow,
like a whisper meant only for me.
The cup cradles my palms,
steady, certain,
a quiet anchor in the noise of the day.
I stir, watching the swirl—
deep brown folding into cream,
like night making peace with the dawn.
Outside, the world moves fast,
pressing, demanding,
but here, in this sip,
I reclaim my own rhythm.
The bitterness hums on my tongue,
bold, unshaken,
a reminder—
I have weathered much,
and I am still becoming.
About the Creator
Edina Jackson-Yussif
I write about lifestyle, entrepreneurship and other things.
Writer for hire [email protected]
Entrepreneur
Software Developer + Machine Learning Specialist
Founder:
➡️Creator Vibes Club
➡️Article Flow Club


Comments (1)
"but here, in this sip, I reclaim my own rhythm." - so lovely and relatable~ 🥰