She was like a black cup of coffee…

The theory of black coffee interests me.

How something so unsettling and dark-

Mysterious even.

Can be the pure light of existence.

How day after day,

You crave it.

Its dry-

Strong taste.

How this murky liquid

Turns into a blissful,

yet powerful substance.

How it fills a mug.

And fills you up.

With energy,

With love,

With a fullness of life and everything you desired.

It’s simple.

It’s kind of like a strong woman.

Bare and real.

Untouched by anything else.

Altered by no one.

It’s the purest version.

Modest and humble.


But brave enough to stand alone.

And there is no need to complicate it-

It needs no other substance,

no changes,

No sugar or dilutions.

It’s perfect on its own,

And so is she.

It’s an acquired taste-

Both a strong woman and black coffee.

Not everyone craves it

And day after day,

the option to change it

Is available.

But steadily avoidable.

Your simple black cup of coffee,

Will be there day after day.

And when you have the choice of everything on the menu-

Remember that there is one consistent factor,

Everything is made with

Just a cup of






And truth be told the women who is unafraid to be herself,

Is the woman I want to be.



“She was like a hot black cup of coffee in the morning,

Strong but smooth.

Simple- in the fact that some people just don’t like black coffee.”


Keep chasing life &

Choose love,


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