I'd just began writing again, it happened a kiss from Delana at my job. Applebees, by far the worst job I have ever Had, my poetry was still rather... Dark. I enjoyed my dark poems though they showed the side of me that I was the most open about. Sin...
I'd just began writing again, it happened a kiss from Delana at my job. Applebees, by far the worst job I have ever Had, my poetry was still rather... Dark. I enjoyed my dark poems though they showed the side of me that I was the most open about. Since I began writing again I would regularly drive down to the campus Coffee Shop, The Steamed Bean, to write. I'd been there with my old roommate and his friend a couple of times it felt like a nice safe haven. I'd buy a cup of coffee, If it was available I'd always pick a certain strain of Coffee. It was named after a Nirvana song, "Love Buzz" it was the perfect strain for me when I was writing. If it wasn't there I'd go for another strain but in all reality this was by far my preferred Coffee type at The Steamed Bean.
I'd sit there for hours on end, type and type go home smoke a little weed or take a shot or two of liquor come back and type myself dry. I must have written at least 20 poems in that Coffee shop alone, the one adjacent with the name of The Dreamer I'd attempted to start writing some non fiction short stories about my life but those didn't go as well as planned simply because I was into writing poetry at the time. I hadn't found the right balance in my life needed to write poetry and short stories on cue, I blamed the kiss for that it really got me into the poetry writing mood. Posting my poems and writings on Social Media seemed to get me into a little bit of trouble down the road but we won't get into that.
I ran into an old adult figure in The Steamed Bean, I didn't even expect to see her there it was an older lady from the Alcoholics Anonymous meetings I had attended in the past, Her name was Laurie. I slowly let the meetings go because of my heavy work hours, and the simple fact that I wasn't even Twenty-One yet,
"how did I have a problem with alcohol?" I had wondered since the moment I arrived in there.
Applebees would work me from early in the afternoon to around 2 in the morning, it always did take a good amount of time to close that restaurant down. It was near impossible to get any writing done with those types of work hours. Any good writing I mean. My poetry was mediocre at best but I always was my own worst critic, I would hear from some people
"Alot better than I could do"
"You better remember me, son!"
That one coincedently enough didn't come from my father but it made me smirk.
I waited for my friend to finish speaking to the woman behind the counter and I'd asked her how the meetings had been going since I'd been gone. I found out she hadn't been attending for awhile as well which made me feel rather better about myself knowing that I wasn't the only lost attendant in the Alcoholics Anonymous rooms, they would say odd things to me there at times, things along the lines of
"If you're happy with your story now you can stop."
I wasn't completely sure what that one meant... Stop what? One of them told me they thought I was going to make in one instant, that one made me feel a lot better about myself seeing as how I didn't want to turn out like my Mother, an alcoholic the entirety of her young adult life. Hell, even after she had me she still couldn't get her shit together for anybody because she never wanted it for herself, that was another thing I had learned in the Alcoholics Anonymous meetings, it only works if the person wants it. I was much to young to want sobriety at that point in time.
During this date I wasn't sober, I had a bottle of whiskey at the house that I would go back to time and time again just to get a couple of shots in, then ride back to the coffee shop to keep writing poetry. Whatever it was that I called poetry, I just enjoyed writing it. My friend told me of the open mic night that night, I could get up and read some of my poems. That took me back to a happier time, I had never done it the first time around so I figured I might as well try now. It'd been awhile since I'd been up on stage in front of people, Three years actually but I accepted, signed up to arise on stage at 9pm and drove home to get some poems together for the Open Mic Night. I got about four or five decently worded poems I thought would be good to read and went back.
I stepped in the coffee shop, it was fairly full I noticed her first... Her name was Karen, it wasn't the girl who I had kissed but I noticed her... I remembered the first time I'd seen her at work, She was a quiet type, like me. I'd seen Karen many times at work though I'd never, seen or spoken to her outside of work. Karen was sitting at the table beside the couches with a few of her friends studying. She was a beautiful girl the fact that she was there made me kind of regret signing up to get on stage to read my poetry, then I looked over to see Laurie sitting on the couch, the couch right beside the table that Karen was sitting at. I quickly paced over and sat beside Laurie with quick glances here and there to Karen. I flashed back in my mind...
"Who would you say the number one server at applebees is?"
Clayton asked me, I could tell Randall wanted an answer as well
I don't remember her name I said to them
Trisha I guess
I guess Janet
"What about Delana?"
She's not bad -
-Oh number one, I remember now-
-I think her names Karen
Neither of them knew who I was talking about. Atleast they said they didn't they were rather drunk.
I knew her though, She was gorgeous...
Well there she was, sitting right beside us, I went out to smoke multiple cigarettes in the time. Always passing by her wondering if she even noticed me... Wondering if she was wondering if I noticed her. Wondering too much to be wondering, I barely even knew her but she was perfect sitting there. I knew she had a boyfriend which was the shittiest part. Hell, it's not like I could've spoke a word to her if she didn't have a boyfriend, I was too reluctant with my feelings.
I went out back to smoke one last cigarette before I was set to go on stage and read some of my poetry. I kept the dark poetry out to save my name, but I had a staircase poem I wrote. It was one of the final ones. A staircase poem was a type I had made up where it would staircase by syllables. It was the one I was the most proud of when I got up and read. I always smoked cigarettes to music, I smoked to a Fall Out Boy song out back that night. Looking down I saw a receipt paper, what interested me the most was what it had engraved in it, a coffee stained receipt paper stained with a heart, I took it back into Laurie and showed it to her. She looked at me and smiled. I wondered if she was observing...
They called my name and I got up and spoke, I read my staircase poem and spoke of my psychology teacher who had a goal set in mind. Mine goal at the time of writing this poem was to make a poem type I could call mine, I didn't think this would be that poem type yet I could dream. I read four of my poems, I didn't even think she noticed me until I got to work the next day.
"I heard you read some poems at "The Steamed Bean"" A server spoke to me
"Karen told me she saw you"
My heart sank... She saw me? Well of course she saw me but I didn't think she would have cared. I didn't know what to say so I just smiled and said-
Yeah I was there
"Keep writing, It'll be okay"
That's what they say at the meetings....
I just replied with a simple- Yeah... That's what they tell me.