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  • Writer's pictureCasey Girard

Coffee Thoughts

His warm breath kisses my neck every time he exhales. The tingling sensation runs up and down my back, gearing me up for him, and pushing my heavy eye lids towards sleep simultaneously. My body can’t decide if it wants his touch or rest more. This time the safety of his touch outweighs my need to feel like a woman, and I drift off, his steady breaths adding heat to my dreams.

Dreams of him. Of our life. The obstacles we have overcome, and the choices we have made. Nobody tells you this, but one day you wake up and thirty smacks you in the face. Choices feel concrete, and the world is still screaming at you to be what it needs. Not who. what.

What to wear. What to do.

What to buy.


Because we are all just pons in the bigger scheme of things. Be careful, or the greediness of society will swallow you whole. Keep people who call your bluff close. We could all use a little less bullshit in our lives.

More authenticity. More honesty.

Life is too short to spend time with shallow folks. Chasing goals that aren’t yours will keep you running in circles impressing the wrong crowds.


Keep the people who make you tingle,

and tell the rest to fuck off.



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