little pieces of concrete, tucked in between my toes
as I march towards my transportation
my little car that carries an inconceivable amount
memories tucked into the doors and cushions
evidence stashed in the glove box or under the seats
cigarettes and spiced ***, this decision will release the kraken
to try and remove those little pieces that attach so eagerly
the small tears and snips of paper flurries
oh it awakens me
finger drawings in the dirt, hand prints smashed against windows long ago
yearning doubles up and i want want want,
to need to let this go
sweet, bitter
yet i keep picking apart the past times spent
drive ins, concerts, back roads, gas stations, circles and triangles
all the curves and swerves, the lines that brought me right beside you
but i hoard, because i am so scared of forgetting
if i do that, i may lose sight of why it was worth it
fingernails scrape against plastic when it finds
it
USB cemented to the bottom of the cup holder
had been hiding under mix CDs and poetic receipts
no amount of pulling and prying would loose the thing
i grew more and more sick with every try
a flat head screwdriver finally did the trick
I took a moment to look fondly but I grew ill
to know this is how you must see me clinging
pathetic and sticky
so I responded in the same ways as you did then
it now lies somewhere
buried in a trash bin