Dichotomy

Don't talk to me until I've had my coffee

Clack. Clickity-clack.

The clicking of the keyboard keys grant a simple sense of solitude,

Though the aggravation bubbling beneath the surface is rather overdue.

The beat of the music is hollow, into the feel of silence I wallow.

Woe is me, woe is me, a simple drama fix is what I need it seems.

My mind and soul are exceptionally exhausted,

The cold nips my feet, and my body is frosted.

I'm tired, and in desperate need of endorphins,

pushing back the self-hate, but it's trying to force it's way in.

Sorry, didn't mean to snap, I'm heading out to Starbucks,

I'll take my coffee black.