your foot on the gas:
a brick of immovable motive
forcing us into the future,
one we will not like.
if only my screams rang louder
than the toxins your brain swam in,
drowning you in other,
maybe we would've stopped.
there's another pedal, you know.
no, you didn't listen.
a bridge was crossed that day.
the tangible now torn down,
my abstract just as well:
an ever-widening chasm caught between us two.
i knew your secrets then;
i wish i knew how to drive.