It feels like the right kind of leaving
Like the end of a movie
Late at night
And secretly
I wish we didn’t have a destination
With her in the front seat
Him and his boyfriend in the back
They sleep
To the elevator music of my generation
White noise wind
Adds static
Like cards in the spokes of a bike
All spades and hearts
In the blur they dig sometimes
How this feels right now
Is like riding a bicycle
And a man in a car slaps your ***
As the car drives by
It is how life pats you one the back
Good job
But keep going
This **** hurts sometimes
It is a 25 mile an hour slap to the ***
After everything
And all the places I could be right now
It is why I got us lost I think
In the need for no destination
But right here