12:30pm at a Starbucks

 

He rotates the Starbucks cup in his hand

“Maggie?” he asks, as on me his eyes land

I nod and I smile, then I take my treat

and turn to go and grab a seat

but “I like your shirt,” he says with a grin

That’s when my imagination takes me for a spin.

We’re sharing a blanket and watching Die Hard

I’m laughing at a funny hand-drawn birthday card

His hand is roaming down to my butt as we kiss

We’re playing pool and teasing each other when we miss

The scene plays out, we’re dancing in the kitchen, only us two

He’s stroking my cheek with his thumb, saying “I love you,”

but I’m pulling away, anxiety ruining the bliss

His voice is cracking angrily, “you always do this”

Cue the Adele and the rain as I’m walking down the street

when I realize this is a mistake I don’t want to repeat

I’m running back to my room, but you’re already there

“I’m sorry,” I say, your hands in my hair

The audience is applauding, they cry that it’s fate

 

“Thanks,” I say, just a little too late.

 

His back is already to me, his hands in the sink

He gets ready to make the next customer’s drink

things i’m sorry for

i’m sorry i stayed up until 2 last night watching MTV instead of sleeping

i’m sorry i said my mom was a bad parent for not calling

i’m sorry i cried after she did

i’m sorry i talk with my hands too much during interviews

i’m sorry i talk too much

i’m sorry i sometimes dislike my friends for being happy

i’m sorry i don’t understand W-4s and direct deposit forms

i’m sorry i don’t know how to use concealer and i don’t own a blazer or dress pants or a car

i’m sorry i think my life would somehow be better if i did

i’m sorry that i talk more about reading than i actually do read

i’m sorry that i’m 18 and i wiped my booger on the wall

i’m sorry i lied

i’m sorry i’m not actually sorry about that

i’m sorry that i glanced at the clock only during your parts of our conversation

i can tell you that coffee isn’t an adequate substitute for sleep

and the Beatles’ last album was Abbey Road

but we still won’t win at trivia

i stole a pen yesterday

i’m sorry about that

Love Story in Three Stanzas

 

He once drove five hours in the rain

He busted the tire and spilled the champagne

Her palms were cold and sweaty

Her skirt felt just too tight

But she got the job and she was ready

When he arrived there that night

 

She kissed him before he could make a sound

His hand opened up, the ring fell to the ground

Five years later, she’s made a list

Of potential boy and girl baby names

And when he walks in, she can’t resist

She tells him and smiles when he exclaims

 

“Oh I know – how about Ellie?”

He says, pulling her back to look at her belly

Ellie it was, and she was perfect

When 9 months later she came

And he thought to himself that it was worth it

Driving those five hours in the rain

(for my stretch marks)

(for my stretch marks)

 

i’ve got badass lightning strikes on my thighs

did i ever tell you?

well i do

i’ve got crooked knees and

blurred vision

ears that could use cleaning

tiny wrists and a scar on my thumb

the occasional gray hair

acne scars and a chipped tooth

all of which are beautifully me

but my favorite – easily –

are the badass

electrifying

white lines

that decorate my thighs

i wear my stripes

like a fucking warrior

a 2 hour moment

Image result for happy while dancing artistic photo

 

9pm

We dance on the wet grass like the losers we are

shoes piled up by the speakers

I’ve lost the upper register of my voice

and whatever makeup I had put on

to the singing and the sweating

but oh boy is it worth it

my feet are covered in dew

my hair is coming out and

tendrils cling to my face

it smells faintly of B.O. and my knee is aching

but oh boy is it worth it

sing, swing, cling, throw a few screams out

and a high kick if you’re feeling it

laughter echoes above the music

*

11pm

We trudge inside like the losers we are

but that night I sleep with a smile