I keep looking
out the ***** window
into my dark reflection
beyond the clouded stars.
Looking for answers,
and finding myself thinking more,
the wheels turning
until they’re nothing but burnt rubber.
Metaphors replace scents of DMT
and my mind runs on ecstasy,
but all I can imagine
are ships passing each other at midnight.
I want to turn the wheel and
crash
into your body, my solace.
But I don’t want to wreck what we have.
I can’t help but wonder
if this plane would drown in the ocean
beneath our unsuspecting minds,
would we be reincarnated
into soulmates
who travel in an RV
because we were born afraid to fly?
Even if we can’t afford the trip,
I’ve read your horoscope 1000 times
and the signs say that you can give me
adventure.
And this is more than ****** attraction,
it's wanderlust.
so please,
run away with me.
They can't tell us we're wrong if we aren't around to be scolded, my love.
