I like to dunk my croissant in coffee

I dunk my crossaint in my coffee
I sit amongst the music, the voices of strangers
and feel at peace
not as lonely.
A single figure in the background
in solitude,
hoping to be seen
hiding in plain sight. 

flakes on my chest and pants
i continue to write
daydreams of my life.
manifest,
think positive,
it will all come true.

I try to write about you. 

the grief floods 
it feels as though no one will ever understand 
that the pain,
the suffering, 
the devastation of my heart
is not even holding on by a thread.

i can't be in public without shedding some tears
that creep up when I write, speak, think, breathe, exist... 

crossaint flakes float in my latte.