/ˈrazˌberē,-b(ə)rē/
{ i wake up}
the misty,
cold,
grey air
swirls around me
in (silence).
i some how
ended up
on the floor
of my
cold,
grey,
wooden front porch.
the taste
in my mouth
is horrid.
(just like all mornings)
i manage
to pull
myself
up.
i walk inside
of my
grey,
wooden house.
the cool,
misty,
air
is so thick
that it
hugs my body
like a
frosty, silk
blanket.
the wooden floor
{ creaks creaks creaks}
ah,
there it is.
i find my
glass cup
right there,
in the middle of the room
on the floor.
i reach down,
and wrap my
palm,
then fingers
around the
thin rimmed,
fragile,
glass
cup.
my only cup.
i walk
towards the
wooden,
barrell full of
water.
it is
on my
front porch.
i
dip
the
cup
into
the water.
i pull the cup
back out.
(water drips on
