bumblebea

A book lover who reads by flashlight and dreams of living in a cottage by the sea, 

and running a bookstore with tinted windows and plants spilling down shelves, 

I take my coffee sweet, 

It's less bitter on my taste, 

It takes a little honey, 

And a dash of milk to make. 

I'm scared.

I can't believe we're here

Again.

I can't believe this is reality

Again.

Four years

They say.

It's only four years.

But it's four years

Of a living hell for me.

They laugh

Driving down dirt roads

Ten miles per hour over the speed limit

Oops

Slowing down

Tapping my foot to my new depression playlist 

Tears

I had an idea

I wanted to spill all my anger into the page

so why is it always so hard to write 

34

An even number

A prime number

2

17 times

I can't count it on one hand

Not on two

Not even with my toes

And with a list of 34 felonies

We still elect

Him

A convicted felon