It comes back in pieces
When I lie in a bed too big for me
With a blanket too heavy
A shut of the eyes
Spikes my adrenaline and the memory
Of the greasy wheel between my hands
My right foot slipping on the perforated pedal
The engine, tiny and angry
Purring like a asthmatic lion
The victory of pulling into first
The beginnings of a whiplash headache behind my ears
I see them
Grey and intertwined
Trying to focus on myself and my driving
And not that with every kiss they steal
Their happiness is being ****** away
And when the interest runs dry
I will be the pillar on which to lean