White Chocolate Mocha

Driving quickly with quick stops
In the passenger’s seat I sit, sipping
a white mocha --bought with blood money--
between moments of panic.

“Thur are a lot of idiots on the road,”
he says with a slur. “Having a bad day,
late for something or other, a few too
many drinks… I’m just saying, thur are

a lot of idiots out there, so pay attention.”
As he swerves to avoid a vehicle in the
next lane over, I take another sip. At home,
wondering how I could possibly still be living,

all that my dog wants to do is play. And all
that my cat wants to do is watch the birds
outside and all that my little sister wants
to do is sleep until noon.

And I hate this delicious cup of coffee.


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