last time we spoke in person
you kissed a fogged up bus window
because you were sad.
the day was cold and gray and wet.
we were cold and gray and wet.
the bus had a blowout, there was smoke everywhere,
we pulled over.
everyone freaked out,
but we just sat there.
you were in front of me,
i was behind you,
texting each other, because we couldn't talk in person,
ever.
i had decided i was mad at you.
why was i mad, and not sad?
you had decided to make my mistake
of wanting something you just can't have.
why were you sad, and not mad?
the bus pressed onward on three wheels and a doughnut-
a wheel you want to think is there, but isn't.
and when we made it to the restaurant,
i sat alone,
and you sat alone
with friends you kept from inviting me over,
and you left
and they left
and i left.
the bus doughnutted it's way to some ****** play,
i sat on the far left,
you sat on the far right,
and they left,
and you left,
and i left.
we were waiting on something,
so you typed "hey"
and i typed "what"
and you asked me what i thought
and i said there was only one way it could have been worse.
and you asked what
but i didn't answer.
the bus doughtnutted it's way down the twisting, turning, hateful road that leads to my hometown where i can hardly pass a crack in the pavement without a painful memory, like a ****, sprouting up.
it was cold and gray and wet that day;
the bus window was foggy.
you drew a heart and scribbled initials inside.
T.M.
+
A.F.
you kissed a fogged up bus window
because you were sad.
i drew a heart and scribbled initials inside,
of course you couldn't see me
(i was behind you)
V.T.
+
A.F.
i kissed a fogged up bus window
because i was sad
and wished you would turn around.
Copyright February 2011 by Victor Thorn