You puffed out hatred In blushing clouds that glowed against the hollow sky And I writhed in the back seat To the music of a broken carburetor and a lack of self-respect
Inky purple stains strewn across the dashboard To match the ones on my shoulders There’s a sky up there and I don’t think you’ve ever seen it Because you say I’m a constellation that someone wrote the story of Before they tossed me into the sky
So you toss me around like candy wrappers and train tickets Because you like me when I’m crumpled in the center console Below the strength of your hand that holds the cigarette That you burnt your name into my skin with
This highway smells like gasoline Maybe because I’m doused in you And every time the road turns itself over into a new year I tell myself that I’ll love you
Better than I do from below your feet Peeking out from under your tread While I’m treading water in the bottom of your cup holders Or maybe one day from the passenger seat with your fingers pushing bruises into my thighs
You’re driving me towards the milky way with ashes in my palms Away from city lights, away from myself There’s a solar system next to my body in the trunk And it always spins around you