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

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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

He Wanted to Know Where She Kept Her Faith

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He wanted to know where she kept her faith

How she bottled it up and stopped it from spilling

How she kept the honesty from going rabid and killing

it, ripping to shreds the congealed essence

How she hid it from the inevitable senescence

He wanted to know how she always had enough

Who her drug dealer was and where he could find him

Take his hands and with rope clumsily bind them

and rob him of all the stuff he is forever lacking

Cure all the hurt and stop attacking

himself, and he wanted to know where she kept her faith

He wanted to know how she managed

Not to shatter and crumble and take advantage

of every dumb bastard that crossed her path

How she had no temper, had no wrath

And desperately

He wanted to know how she was so good

How she loved him and hugged him and told him he should

have faith in the future that he couldn’t see

He wanted to get rid of this poisonous debris