fast cars,
and dreams of pretty girls driving them.
i'm reckless as i hold onto the "oh ****" handle,
my hands shake and my hair
whips behind me,
like i'm underwater and i'm swimming down.
a blur of tan skin and dark hair and washed-out florals.
we slow,
and i tap my mint-colored nails on the side of
the bright red convertible.
i look at my companion,
a girl, but that's all i know.
her hair changes every time, one night it's black the next it's blue,
she wears a white sundress, with red heart-shaped sunglasses shielding her eyes.
eyes are the window to the soul,
and i can't see hers.
sometimes she smiles at me,
her lips are blood red,
and her mouth is indifferent.
i smile back, my probably
pink
lipstick smeared on.
i don't know who she is.
i don't know who she is.
i'm riding in a red convertible with a girl
on a road i don't know in a place i've never seen.
i don't know who she is or why i'm in her car.
but it's a dream and it's over in
a few minute's time.