Slowdown you're driving too fast...
You pull
over
The tires got a flat
Gnashing the plaque
between your teeth you snarl
*who's three sheets to the wind now *
tearing out the pages of my poetry book
I watch them float over the freeway
into the mountains,
Chain-link fence between me
and everything I ever felt about you
and crossing that great divide
definitely be my demise.
Do I chase after the words
that I thought meant something more?
Do I accept everything
about you is absolutely reckless?
