LIBRARY OF WRONGRESS

why i said no to your coffee date

no.
because i’m sensitive to caffeine,
and because i’m too sensitive to everything else,
and because i’m not sensitive enough.
because i have to remind myself
to recite the expected pleasantries
each time i have a conversation,
and eventually i will forget to ask you
the correct question
at the correct time
and you’ll see how insensitive i truly am.

no.
because i’m too old
to try something new.
because the path i’ve etched through
the canyon of my years
is not wide enough for two,
and i don’t know any other way to live.
because any sweetness i ever had evaporated
and left behind a sour residue,
and you’ll get to the bottom
of your cup of coffee
and realize the bitterness you tasted
was just me.

no.
because i’m closed off,
in a way that can’t be mistaken for mysterious.
you’ll ask me,
what it was like to grow up in los angeles,
what my favorite class in college was,
what i had for breakfast yesterday,
and i’ll have no reply
because i don’t know.
because i’m locked out of myself
and may never find a way back in.
because you’re looking for a way inside,
and you’ll be hard-pressed to find an entrance
whose handle i haven’t already broken off in frustration.

no.
because i’m wild,
like a feral animal,
and you’re a corner.
because i never rest.
because when you’ve been caught before,
everything becomes a trap.
because if you get too close,
i’ll do something instinctive and desperate
with an electric terror in my eyes,
and you’ll blame yourself for scaring me
when really,
i couldn’t even see you.

no.
because i’m confusing,
and unnerving,
and my limbs don’t move like a person’s should.
because i’ve dragged myself for miles,
the grit in the concrete wearing the flesh down,
leaving myself spread a centimeter thick behind me
across all the places i’ve crawled out of.
because what’s left of me is grotesque,
and raw,
and inhuman.
because my mouth makes shapes
that sound like words
until you really listen.
because you’ll look up at me
over your cup of coffee
tomorrow morning,
or five years from now,
and see for the first time
how the light catches me in the wrong places,
and you’ll feel a jolt of fear.

no.
because i couldn’t keep up with you anyway,
all long legs and long conversations.
because i’m all goose and you’re all chase,
with a breeze that never catches my wings
always tugging at the hem of your shirt
like an invitation to run away together.
because you’ll convince the whole coffee shop
that the hour had struck early
when your laughter rings out like a bell
calling the faithful to pray.
because it would become
painfully obvious
what i think of your laugh-filled mouth
after watching me
watch you drink your coffee.
because i’ve never had a face for poker,
but you have a face
that has me pushing all my chips forward.

no.
because i want to.
because i really want to.



2025