Jul 2018
It’s 12:08 on a Saturday night and I can’t help but notice the stutter in your breaths
as the speedometer ticks 45,
50,
60.
The wind whips across the top of the open Jeep making both of our hair fly as you turn to look at me.
I looked up at the dull constellations in the sky
trying to avoid the stars I knew were in your eyes.
There’s a tickle on my leg and I look down to see your fingertips tracing tiny circles on the skin above my knee.
The pressure on my thigh gets tighter and I look up to see everything
swimming in your eyes mimicking the look you had when we used to talk ourselves in circles.
The car runs over the rumble strips forcing you to look away and quickly becoming my saving grace from the question I knew was coming:
what are you thinking?
Slowing down to 15 below the speed limit, swerving left and right
in a lame attempt to avoid the never ending *** holes on a back road I didn’t even know existed, we sat is silence.
It’s 12:43 as you put the car in park and say you want me
happy, say you’re ready to commit,
that you know things are different now but that’s not good enough reason to quit.
The full moon shines light on the black silhouette in front of me defining your messy hair, nervous look, and everything eyes.
I whisper I want you happy too, but your fear hasn’t died,
and that there’s nothing romantic about a joint suicide.
We’d crash and burn, get lost in our teenage addictions without caring who or what we hurt.
It’s 1:37 and you pull off again except I remember this spot from the summer after junior year.
Unlike now, it was warmer that night we were last here when the crickets echoed our conversations of love, loss, and regret.
With two simple clicks the headlights were off and the world around us seemed to stand still. I could hear your breathing
getting heavier and faster as you gently cradled my face in your hands
duplicating the night we earlier said that we regret.
Taking in your dimly lit face, you pull my forehead to yours as that song comes on talking about how we used to be so young and self assured.
I realized a rush like this doesn’t come from caffeine
because before I knew it,
you were all over me like we were back at 17.
as the speedometer ticks 45,
50,
60.
The wind whips across the top of the open Jeep making both of our hair fly as you turn to look at me.
I looked up at the dull constellations in the sky
trying to avoid the stars I knew were in your eyes.
There’s a tickle on my leg and I look down to see your fingertips tracing tiny circles on the skin above my knee.
The pressure on my thigh gets tighter and I look up to see everything
swimming in your eyes mimicking the look you had when we used to talk ourselves in circles.
The car runs over the rumble strips forcing you to look away and quickly becoming my saving grace from the question I knew was coming:
what are you thinking?
Slowing down to 15 below the speed limit, swerving left and right
in a lame attempt to avoid the never ending *** holes on a back road I didn’t even know existed, we sat is silence.
It’s 12:43 as you put the car in park and say you want me
happy, say you’re ready to commit,
that you know things are different now but that’s not good enough reason to quit.
The full moon shines light on the black silhouette in front of me defining your messy hair, nervous look, and everything eyes.
I whisper I want you happy too, but your fear hasn’t died,
and that there’s nothing romantic about a joint suicide.
We’d crash and burn, get lost in our teenage addictions without caring who or what we hurt.
It’s 1:37 and you pull off again except I remember this spot from the summer after junior year.
Unlike now, it was warmer that night we were last here when the crickets echoed our conversations of love, loss, and regret.
With two simple clicks the headlights were off and the world around us seemed to stand still. I could hear your breathing
getting heavier and faster as you gently cradled my face in your hands
duplicating the night we earlier said that we regret.
Taking in your dimly lit face, you pull my forehead to yours as that song comes on talking about how we used to be so young and self assured.
I realized a rush like this doesn’t come from caffeine
because before I knew it,
you were all over me like we were back at 17.
