It’s cheap gas-station coffee

consumed while driving a car that barely starts,

listening to moody music that allows you

to reflect on times you’ve been heartbroken

and times you’ve broken hearts.

 

There are greasy breakfast sandwiches,

alcohol, relationships, assignments.

There’s a job that isn’t terrible,

but it isn’t everything.

You still dream of better.

 

The thing about being twenty

is that you are still so in-between.

Between an adult and a child,

where some expect the most from you,

and others refuse to take you seriously.

 

I find that relationships are more confusing,

the world is more emotional,

I’m constantly sprinting to keep up.

And my mood can spiral down,

as easily as it rose up.

 

But there’s a freedom,

even if it comes in a run-down car.

There’s truth, even if it takes 

time and pain to find it.

And gas-station coffee,

 

really isn’t that bad.