I wonder if my car
would miss me
if I found a soul that fits me.
I'd have no need of
late night drives, just me and
the machine, grinding, smoking.
The worn down, heated seats
holding me till I catch my breath.
Would it curse me, saying,
"I always knew you'd leave me
I was just a car to you
nothing more,
nothing less"
or would it thank me for
the good runs
but finally get to
rest.