Morning Coffee

It’s a quiet morning cup of coffee,
Paired with catching up conversation
About how a loved-one’s soul was set free
From the bounds of this earthly detention.
Our words hang in the air over the steam,
Avoiding any hint of causing pain
While inside we begging just to scream
About the suffering that still remains.
Instead we will talk about the weather,
Or the current condition of the state,
But this will not help the wounds get better,
Or give us cause to avoid our known fate.
I’ll just curl up around my cup of joe,
Leaving all these feelings no place to go.