I have so much more to give

We sat on the computer until midnight making videos in an abandoned kitchen. Singing the wrong words to backstreet boys songs and pretending to know spanish and laughing.

and laughing.

and laughing.

the next morning came far too fast and i can't stop yawning even though it is the hottest day we've had so far. Job interview in a dimly lit resteraunt and I swear if you hire me I'll smile while I open that door and make their Friday nights beautiful. I'll charm them as I hand them their menus and steal their hearts while leading them to their table. I tried to make eye contact and sip my diet coke slow and classy and maybe I wasnt sophisticated but I was real. In the end, I think that's all that counts.

I read my poetry for a quiet classroom yesterday and the love notes they scribbled on ripped note cards take my breath away. They fill me with renewed inspiration and make my pen fly. They forgot their high school bull shit while I read about love and Paris and the non conformists they long to be. They listened to the music I was making even though my throat was sore from a chaotic weekend and nights of insomnia. They clapped when I sat down and now I remember why artists are so happy. Because they give something to the world. Because when they give, they get. I have so much more to give.

The more I read about these Jack Keroucs and Steppenwolves the more I long for escape. I taste freedom and oh I can not stop licking my lips. I have forgotten about promises and love and something I used to pray on. I am living now. This second. This moment. The universe won't wait for me to define my perfect romance so I'll simply take the beating hearts it passes over to me and be as gentle with them as I can. I'll savor the last Friday I will walk into that high school and surrender my restless hunger for adoration to a night of meditation. I'll find my "Om".