The problem with me is that sometimes I want to have my cake and eat it too.
I want to have the new and the old.
I hate change but also dream of it at night for weeks.
It makes me sick to my stomach, and sweaty and filled with an emotion I can't describe.
Why am I so quick to accept the affection of someone I just met, when I have someone waiting for me at home?
There's definitely something going on with me that I'm in love with being thought of as interesting and fresh.
So many times has this addiction over powered me.
It's not drugs or alcohol that I crave, it's attention and affection and that exciting fun feeling.
I should really ask a therapist why smoking a cigarette with someone felt so fine.

I went down by the riverside
where he lived alone.
He said come on by and we can get high and we can catch up after so long
The air was cold and the winter snow sparkled under the moon.
But inside his house was so warm and
nice and then he offered wine
and I asked, "how are ya?"
he said, "I'm doin fine."

I watched as this little black bug scurried across the carpet,
weaving around and clearly unsure of where to go.
How did he end up in this office space?
And where does he want to go?
I hoped he would figure it out before the girl came through with the vacuum and ****** him up.
But then there he went making his way down the carpet again.

I was just going out to get an iced coffee and cigarettes but this time I decided not to go to Starbucks as usual, I went to the cool little coffee place in town called Taffys.
I had to park down the street and walk a short ways.
The floor boards groaned under my feet as I walked in.
I was greeted with a hello, and I asked if they had iced coffee.
"Taffys doesn't open until 4, but of course."
I looked at the clock and it was 3.
Oh, I'm sorry! I awkwardly giggled.
"No it's totally cool. If you have the time I can make you one now." Said a pretty blonde, wearing a unique all black outfit.
I said yes, deciding to disregard my nature of being in a hurry.
An older man wearing a hat, with his shirt unbuttoned, exposing a fresh tattoo came around and sat at the counter and introduced himself as Mike and her as Moriah.
The two began to chat with me, excitedly talking about the way they make coffee and had me smell the beans I would be drinking.
They asked me about myself and we talked about tattoos and they told me about how they are musicians and the others that come and play there.
They were the type of people that are just calming and inviting and soon I was sharing a blueberry pastry with them and looking at the boutique she had created.
Moriah went and talked with some people that came in and I asked Mike if he smoked and he said,
"Yeah. Come this way. I want to show you something."
I followed him out the back and we came out onto a cool outside area with places to sit and a wall that had portraits on it.
We sat and smoked cigarettes and talked some more.
He explained to me that he's been divorced and after being snowed in together for four days that he and Moriah began dating.
She came out and had a cigarette too and you could tell he admired her and was just happy with their life together.
The wind was blowing, and it was warm and I felt comfortable.
They kept saying how glad they were that I came in and I smiled and said me too.
It was so unusual but fun to meet people this way.
It felt like I was someone else in a movie and I didn't know how it would end but it was exciting.
But soon enough they had to get back to work and I realized an hour had gone by and I parked in a spot that was supposed to be only 30 minutes so we said good bye and they told me to come back some time.
And I really wanted to. I didn't even want to leave because I knew that this kind of life must be so fun. Musicians who work together in a cool coffee shop that are in love, and meet other musicians all the time.
I walked back to my car smiling and was already thinking about when I could come back and how sometimes you are just in the right place at the right time.

I can't write about love when I'm in it.
I can only write about love when I'm missing it.

Boy with the long dark hair,
****** hair that accentuates your smile.
The only guy I've ever met that has Reba on their playlist.
I let out a happy sound, and you grinned up at me as you packed a ****.
When we all went to that wedding I got to see you in a suit, and smell your cologne and oo-wee.
You looked better than the groom.

Wine makes me smile,
makes me sing,
makes me laugh,
makes me feel pretty.
I understand why they have it with every meal in Italy.
It makes me feel like I'm at a fancy party in the 50's or something,
wearing a beautiful vintage dress,
holding the stem of the glass with painted fingernails and a lipstick stain on the rim.

A huge part of me wants to be involved in this nationwide gun control topic,
but there's another that doesn't want to participate.
Partly because I'm afraid I'm not educated on the subject enough and maybe I feel this way because I'm an empathetic and emotional person who hates violence of any kind and that blinds me from something I don't know about.
But, those that have the opposite opinion are probably just as educated as me, if not less
and everyone's voice and thoughts matter.
But.
It's just so touchy and there's no way to talk with a gun loving hick from Ohio who thinks he needs that gun to protect himself from the Government...
Although I think he's forgetting that if the Gov. wanted him dead, he would be without even seeing it coming.
Duh.
So.
As you might see, I'm conflicted as **** and feel that everyone is selfish and will never agree and that nothing will ever change.
I think it hurts me so much because I love my country, my home, but it feels like this isn't the place I grew up admiring anymore.
Children and innocent people will continue to die in large quantities and that's just what life in America is like.

I can see the light from a house that sits all the way across a field;
from where I'm laying in bed.
Daylight is breaking,
but I bet today is going to be grey.
I have a perfect picture frame of the field, the house in the distance now with a light on inside, from someone waking up.
A row of leafless trees in the background.
Like a Bob Ross painting really.
It's February but it's going to be warm today.
How nice.

I hear a bird chirping outside my window, just as the sun is about to rise.
It sounds like spring, even though there is a thin layer of snow on the ground.
I can't help but smile as I fall asleep.

I'll admit it.
That evening I laid my head
on a blanket on the grass and felt safe
knowing you couldn't see my eyes watching you.
You looked over at me once and we caught each other's gaze.
But after that you didn't try again.
And that's okay.
I liked knowing you were just a few steps away even though I wasn't going to get up.

I might delete this account eventually.
I went back and deleted every piece of garbage poem I wrote in the last year.
They ******.
I'm not good.
I don't know what happened.
But I'm pretty upset because for 20 years all I wanted to do was be a writer.
And now 2 years later everything I put out on here is stupid and not even any kind of writing, it's more of a diary entry.
I'm not good at anything and that is what ***** the most.
I don't have a "thing" anymore.