Coffee Machine Noises

This is the cave in which I hid when I ran away from my life. But it's not so cold anymore; In fact, it feels quite nice. I would sit in my dark cavern and pretend tomorrow looked good, but as it crept around the frowning moon it appeared just as I knew it would. At the kitchen table, in the breakfast nook, I became a zombie with a beating heart. Snowflakes fell like feathers, from the other side; They dropped with the tears I simultaneously cried. For hours I sat and stared through the glass, my frost-bitten heart trapped under an avalanche. The sound of the coffee, brewing a blanket provided warm respite. "Oh what a delight!", I would write, with sarcasm that quickly became quite trite. I still don't know how a place so bright, could have such a tremendous absence of light. Oh but it did, and shadows swallowed my sight. As I visit now, a sick nostalgia sinks into my skin; I don't even attempt to sweat it out again. I allow the coffee machine to win.