PERCHED PARCHED BUTTERFLY

Two Hotheads Get Stuck in a Traffic Jam

Of course you're not running through my mind,

    your eyes are windows and I shut them!

    Your hair will be judged on the Day of Judgement

just like mine, hellfire whipping around us.

    You need to stop with the attitude or I'll elbow you in the brain!

    I'll be the worst person you'll ever look down on because

    I'll also be your daybreak, your look-forward-to-happening happening, your Friday night because I take the bus and go straight home on mine.

I stay at home and feel divided over whether I should stay in,

pull the blankets over my dizzy head and pretend they're your arms or

go out into the countryside, under black skies full of congratulations,

    and breathe a bit.

    Not saying I like you or anything! Fuck that. It's not like you're my sunbeam.

Then

    you rise quietly and only focus on me for now.

    The world can only be seen through an eyelet.

    We are shooting at each other with our invisible guns again.

The sun goes down and out on this Friday night.

I see it over the many green castles looming over this interstate.

Deftones is turning my chest's hurting into a hummingbird.

We accept the traffic has stiffened like a dead woman.

    When your lips unknowingly know what to do against mine, so suddenly,

    I can finally breathe a bit.