On the day that I suffered a psychotic break, I waited at Starbucks and waited in order to meet someone, and while I was waiting, I wrote this. I think it qualifies as a poem.
I'm waiting here
I'm trying to reach out.
I don't want caffeine.
I don't like people.
I don't want to move.
I can't afford to spend more money.
I'm at Starbucks... AGAIN!
I've been here for like, 3 hours, waiting to meet someone.
He's not a date.
He's a local activist.
I just want to MEET this person!
I'm kinda poor, so...
You do me, I'll do you... wait, that's not right...