Ethan's Prompt 3

During movie night,
my girlfriend told me
I come from a violin
string of baristas.
The constant vibration
in out of tune lattes
with whipped cream
stains my coffee table.
A caffeine rush away
from letting everything out
this was how she told me.
I am the music
coffee shop cashiers
want to play.
The number one hit they
dream of writing.
The big break
in a small town
that never happens.
But she told me I was
trapped behind the counter.
That ringing up customers
poised to never finish their
memoirs was holding me back.
She said that I spend
too much time inhaling
and I have forgotten
what release tastes like.
It is not a crime
to field your dreams in a coffee shop,
she told me,
but I shouldn't expect her to follow
or a better tip
than this one:
Let the past die
in its bloody tuxedo shirt
and stop playing that sad song
on the violin
when there are so many other songs
that you can be playing.