Today I walked about 70 metres and
saw two couples fighting in their vehicles,
the first couple stopped at a red light
and I could still hear the bickering,
the child in the backseat was yanking on
the straps of the car seat like
a regretful rollercoaster, and
the only thing I saw in the reflection of
the glass was a teen drinking away
the memories
...or lack there of,
the second couple looked well off
they were driving a jet black Jeep Cherokee
and it looked well maintained, the type
to wash his car in the rain,
and his face was full of blood,
no kids, maybe they were older
and off to college but the steering wheel
took beatings and the gas pedal
cut the floor carpet into regretful pieces,
the cause is unknown, the affect is unknown,
I sat staring into an hourglass wondering how
beautiful their first months or
maybe their first few years were,
did he sit in the bathroom
while she did her make up?
did she put on layers of interest
when he told tales of how
****** his day was?
did he accept the concept that
girls do in fact **** a lot?
did 25 years go by quick?
or 5 for the first?
they were younger,
are they ******* right now?
or is she on the ground
or is he on the couch?
this glass of wine
will continue to tattoo
foreshadowings of minuscule information
on my fingertips, and I’ll sit in wonder
all night if they’re going to make it through this,
cause for now, I have no hope.