I am a spare tire.
An odd one, not like the rest.
Maybe this is the wrong metaphor.
I am a spare tire, and the car never ran the same way ever again.
It missed its old tire.
So much that the engine would whine for it back,
So much that the windshield cracked,
The windows wouldn't open,
The hood caved in,
The doors wouldn't lock.
So much that the spare tire just wanted to pop.
