Caramel Macchiato, Please
I’m tapping my feet to the music escaping an old man’s saxophone
On main street
I can feel the raindrops hit my hand
I roll them in my palms like marbles
From my childhood
They apologize to me
And I ask for what?
They say, for making you feel smaller than you are
I look up at the sky, water like whites from an egg
Sizzling on my skin
The sun breaking like the yolk
Like me
The old man’s sax is drowning
Filling up with storm
I decide the rain is too much and disappear
Into a coffee shop
I’m at the counter waiting when
The man in front says
“What’s a pretty girl like you doing all alone?”
It ends in a question but not the one he said
Out loud.
Blink 182 cuts like static through the silence
I try to force my mind to the song but
I can only hear the lyrics
“Friday night and” “Nobody likes you”
My smile is already frozen from the cold
But he makes it shatter like a mirror and
Gather itself on the floor.
The server asks my order, slowly
My face rewinds like a VCR and
My smile puts itself back together
“Caramel Macchiato, please.”
I trudge to my home smelling of cardiac arrest
Brush my teeth
Spit out the coffee and distaste on my breath
At night I dream of bowing in front of red gold curtains
Costume only on my lips
A playbill
With my name an elipseys from the heaviest role
Happiness
People throw roses for fake smiles.
Copyright © Iris Blade | Year Posted 2018
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