Pieces of Peace: Midnight ramblings for a soulmate

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Photo by Alex Robert via Unsplash

 

Is there such a thing as soulmates in the romantic sense of the term? I once thought a past love of mine was my soulmate. Though my evidence was shallow and my reasons could be pure coincidences and not handed out by fate. Now, 12:20 a.m on the clock I stay up wondering if you are my soulmate. Could you be the one I would spend the rest of my life with? Or are you another person to fill the time until the universe hands me my actual soulmate?

But there is no doubt in my mind that I love you. I love you so much, in fact, I feel guilty for harmless fantasies. I sound a little crazy, it could be the alcohol talking or my drowsiness catching up with my train of thought.  But I do love you that even in my imagination I could not want to hurt you.

Loveless Definition

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You told me she loved you
You reassured me that she loved you
But I can see the bruises on your skin
And don’t you dare say you like it rough
There’s a difference between love and violence
I know that you were screaming the night before
Then by morning all you give is silence
Darling that is not love
Love is a painful metaphor not to be taken literally

Love isn’t words that crack your spine
Love isn’t black and blue
Love wouldn’t twist your shoulder
Love wouldn’t threaten you with a knife
At three in the morning
Love will never create bullshit excuses
To justify the marks they left on your arms
Love will never give you unfair consequences
Love will never hurt you the way she does

You’re confusing an embrace with her grip
She’s choking you and I don’t want to lose you
I don’t want the air to suddenly fade
from your lungs, and your last breath is her name
please find the strength to walk away
sneak out in the middle of the night
be anywhere else as long as it is not by her side

leave before you can’t even stand
leave before she chains you through twisted words
her eyes lackluster as she apologizes
her promises were meant to be broken
she said she’d love you until days end
but does it have to be yours?

This was supposed to be an Americano

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I forgot what I was supposed to order. I know that it’s their job to smile but dammit his smile was charmingly distracting. So I ordered the first thing I saw on the menu, regretting it once it was served.

He called out my name, my heart jumped but sunk when I’ve tasted my mistake. What the fuck was a macchiato? This was supposed to be an Americano.

Well his smile was enough to wake me up; I didn’t need to fill my system with caffeine because I’ll be picturing his smile until I start dreaming. I sound perpetually cheesy and a tad bit creepy (as long as I wasn’t borderline cliché I’m doing fine) but I swear to God I’m not a stalker. But I do wish I knew his name.

Is it weird I’m writing so poetically about a stranger serving coffee? He’s behind the counter while I’m sitting a few feet away scribbling bad poetry.

Would it be too forward to strike a conversation? Maybe I should start with a friendly hello and ask for his name. Because here I am wondering who he is while he’s screaming out coffee order names.

People are now piling in and I’m jealous because he’s sharing his beautiful smile. I wish his smile was reserved for me, dammit this creamy drink was supposed to be an Americano I’d get a better order if it wasn’t for him.

Now I’m stealing glances hoping to catch an accidental smile. But if I did I’d awkwardly look away out of panic because I wouldn’t know my next move. Should I smile back? Or would that be too presumptuous? I could just continue with writing bad poetry on how he must smell like coffee. I cringe at the lines written on my notebook. The deafening murmurs and overplayed Christmas songs are not a great ambiance for writing yet his very presence was worth the inspiration.

How can everyone in this café be so preoccupied with their own business not realizing an angel smiled while handing out their coffee? Did I say angel?

I told myself not to be cliché but I ran out of metaphors and analogies. I blame early Christmas songs on loop in the background and this wrong coffee order for my minute of insanity. Dear Mariah Carey I love you but if I hear “All I Want for Christmas is You” one more time this early on October I will go mad.

And I did, my writing proves it.

I can tell you this though, God must be bragging in the clouds when he created him. Lining up his angels only to praise his creation, high fiving and cussing to show his enthusiasm. Oh for crying out loud I have written something almost blasphemous calling him almost holy.

Ugh, this overpriced drink should’ve been an Americano. Its bitterness matched with my skepticism would reduce this light headed feeling from a stranger’s smile. This is ridiculous.  What is a macchiato anyway? Its sweetness is rubbing off on my paragraphs; these words are meant for a generic pop song that would be this cafe’s everyday soundtrack.

Dear barista with a captivating smile, can I get a refund? This was supposed to be an Americano.

Stars, Black Holes, and Vodka

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she was once a star
until she can no longer shine
she was burned out
she is now darkness
empty and trying to find fulfillment
but even light couldn’t pass through
she walks on glitter
hoping she’d sparkle once more
but she’s too broken

while he was wonderful
simply amazing and innocent
he fell in love with this black hole
he kissed her lips
even if she tasted like vodka,
nicotine and bitter regrets
she was the definition of damaged
they told him he could never fix her

she lost her jagged pieces
that once made her whole
she wasn’t a puzzle
he could easily solve
instead he saw her and said
she deserved love
He made her feel
a little less scattered

Lonely Cappuccino Nights

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Foggy mornings and stained coffee cups
Can’t wait another hour to skip this routine
Sky is burning red tonight
I’m speeding through the green light
Hoping to get a shot before the crowd comes in
Save me a seat darlin next to your cappuccino
You’re so beautiful so tell me something I don’t know

You’re like a December morning
Without the flashing Christmas lights
You’re as cold as the ice fallin from the sky
It’s hard to get a smile from you, but I try

Hey darling give my heart back
Hey darling thanks for wasting all of my time
Hey darling hope you like lonely cappuccino nights

To the hopeless romantic

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For the skeptic realists don’t be afraid to fall
Because even if it hurts, even if you crash
You will be glad that someone helped
You will smile at the thought
Because even if someone pushed you
Someone is there waiting
Waiting to help you stand
To give you the hope you lost

To the hopeless in love
One day you will forget every heartache
Nay, you will thank each and every one of them
You will greet them with a smile
Because if they haven’t said no
Or crushed your heart into a thousand pieces
You wouldn’t have met the person you were meant to be with
So don’t curse at the name of another heart broken
Curse only if love never gives you the chance
To fall for anyone at all

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I’m a Mess right now

Well at the moment, I am finding myself in tiny bits of rage in the wrong places and times. You could tell me to get anger management however the control is all in myself and in the process of moving on. If you ask me about my feelings I would say it with no hint of denial whatsoever that there are no feelings lingering. Not even a thought of a second chance. The only emotion I have left is anger, probably because I have so much things I wish I could’ve said or replay the moment so there is proper closure.

So bare with me if the themes seem to be redundant because this is all I could write.

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