• chaoticallysmallpoetry

To the Barista who Called me a Hero.

Nervous, I was walking into a new coffee shop.

I got lost coming here driving in circles hoping to find my new hangout spot.

Rustic and crowded a good sign.

I don’t see a menu board which makes me hesitant.

I get to the counter struggling and shuddering, to decide what I want.

When the barista tells me I am killing it, He says, Today you are a hero.

1 view

Recent Posts

See All


inspired by "Dreams" by Fleetwood Mac music has a way of resurfacing through the years, connecting to different generations, showing people they are not alone. Bands that my dad loved as a teenager, I

Chemical Reaction

breaking down bits of myself, dissolving like baking soda when it reacts to vinegar. I am weak. I am small. Taking in every insult and accepting it as truth. Drowing, and being washed away with cold w


As long as I can remember, I have always loved to sing. Never really know if I was good enough to make it. My dreams as a child were large, with flashing lights. Fans, being moved by my voice, having

©2019 by Chaotically Small Poetry. Proudly created with