Blink
I. There is initial contact,
the passing of the drink
to the girl who is more into
this than I am.
Peering into glossed-over eyes,
Pleasantries are exchanged as
plan our next moves,
preparing for what is bound to happen
II. Touching the cold and dew-soaked metals of
the car. It's smooth, yet tough, and if it ever came down
to it, it could stand up for me and
take a beating.
But being a decent driver, I
believe nothing wrong can happen
behind the wheel. Just keep your eyes open, don't
blink, don't let everything slip away for one second.
I. Conflicts arise, but only within me.
Call her a friend “friend?” because I've been
caught in playing her on before, but I
can't stop playing, flirting, chasing, touching,
II. I shouldn't be driving now, but
it's necessary. Everyone knew my
Intent but me, and here I am,
isolated in my alloy shell, protecting me two-fold
I. We found a room and crashed
II. through a thicket of yellow and white
I. sheets tangled and trapping
II. me under the shredded metal
I. bed frame, the accomplice to this bad idea
II. goes through my head and I'm worried it's my last
I. time I'm allowed here because I ****** up again
II. and again and again and constantly rolling and falling,
I blinked.
Oct 17, 2010
Oct 17, 2010 at 3:35 PM UTC
warm radiation
of single serve dinners.
clatter of bottle caps,
bouncing off bent metal brothers.
yesterday: b-movies
for hours,
black and white
brains on wires float,
high school students
lost in allegory.
day before: reading
for hours,
shivering
knees making mountain peaks
under the comforter from home,
avalanches of unseen feathers.
hot coffee, showers,
days of avoiding outside.
heating pads,
leftovers of mother's meatloaf
sent over in a cooler.
reminiscing to no one
about how it use to taste.
Oct 17, 2010
Oct 17, 2010 at 3:30 PM UTC