i drive till the miles exhaust themselves,
they ask me to stop because there's no end to the road,
yet the end keeps whispering to me that it's near.
he says happiness has never seemed so pleasant,
she tells me that what is so pleasant isn't me anymore,
so i drive until i exhaust the miles with me.
the wheels are tired out,
they beg on their rims to stop as love will never feel so real again,
but the break line has been cut so many times now,
there's just no way to stop.
"there's no gas!" the motor yells,
but i can't hear it as the memories of his sweet lies cover my ears,
so the car skids it's way down the road.
car battery has almost used all it's power,
but i work it harder as i feel what use to be his touch,
because the end is near,
so it tells me.
the wheel screams that love isn't pain,
i tell it to be quiet as i remember the feel of his hair through my hands,
letting go of her as she shuts up.
and the airbags explode,
telling me that i went far, too deep into this fantasy,
i cry and tell her "i know," that the only love i could feel was one fabricated by own mind.
i get out of the car before the ambulance arrives,
because another car whispers to me that the end is near,
so i drive this one as the miles beg to be driven.
YOU ARE READING
𝗣𝗼𝗲𝘁 𝗠𝗲 𝗔 𝗣𝗼𝗲𝗺
Poesíaa collection of letters, poems, and short stories from deep within, a little addiction with it too; welcome to the emotions of the awkward teenage time we all once had.