Cafe Sitting

I'm blowing an ember

while you're *** soda

muddled under factory work

while I scrape my soul open.

And you talk recipes

and use the conversation as you should

while I struggle to mold a story

and grow my art

into an exquiste garden-

but you blast me back down

to earth.

With a laugh

like a fashionable accessory

and I'm not in vogue

and I'm not surrounded by friends.

And I'm always so desperate

and somehow you're not. 

So, I'll sip my coffee

and preserve my loneliness

all in the hopes 

of someday manufacturing

something better

than what I envy.