Her trust in you is as good as an empty tank headed south
She won't use the rearview mirror headed far from you
What she leaves behind remains no concern to her burnt out heart
Eyes on the first exit out of here
The highway is her only vision, burying your bones
This is her farewell
Dad, please show me the finger tracks
The flick of the wrist
To see the flint stone find its place
As it hops across the Bluestone
Dad, please tell me how to master putt-putt
How to not be such a mulligan
Rushing into things unawares
Dad, please tell me - oh I can't say it
How to keep my heart from ever breaking again
Watching me in the rearview mirror
He knows I'm there
Living in rearview
I need you to tell me I can stay there awhile
Driving up mountain miles
of washboard switchbacks;
jarring the dusty rearview mirror
in my mind:
"but don't look back in anger"
... I heard you say
stuck in the cloud of dust
befogging my daydream
back somewhere thereabouts
the washed out bridge
that tore us apart
like a flash flood
It was so long ago
since you were running
and I was hiding in plain sight,
from what the storm
in my eyes did tell
Mindful — you were only watching
the growing distance gather;
finding what you didn't lose
looking back to see
what you can't forget —
like a hesitant child
if anyone was still looking back
at you ― still running away
from each passing storm
Thank you for reading my soul scribbles
Hell is this house.
Your phone calls
dropping at 4 am
like bomb blasts.
like a refugee,
in every **** corner.
Each room a minefield.
Each drawer a thread.
I finally finish packing up the last boxes.
Load them in my car.
Close the front door.
Turn the engine on.
See you waving from the rear-view mirror.
I see my future in the rearview mirror of my fast-paced life
With my thoughts spinning out of control,
And I can't seem to tame it
Or control the fact that I fall asleep with you on my mind,
Craving your presence or at least your silhouette along the walls.
The more I stare in this rearview mirror,
The more I fade into the darkness,
The more I settle into a creeping melancholia.
When I look into this rearview mirror,
My life tumbles more into a downward spiral ,
Leaving only the rough edges out for others to see,
But I can't imagine my life with anyone else.
If you want more of my poems, visit my poetry blog- delaajay.wordpress.com
Sometimes, when I go for a drive,
I see myself in the side-view mirror.
And I say:
“Man, who’s that stud in the side-view?”
And other times when I go for a drive,
I see myself in the visor mirror.
And I say:
“Man, who’s that stud in the visor?”
But most times when I go for a drive,
I see myself in the rear-view.
And I say:
“Man, that stud is never going to get anywhere if he keeps living in the past.”
Are notes really optional?
By Arcassin Burnham
Your heart .
Is everything I desire to have ,
Loving Every little moment you smile,
Never doubted the days we spent cuddling,
Caressing the only stresses that you carry , I will always try with you,
Your emotions are the key to me giving mines up,
So I did ,
And it felt amazing,
Patients is a virtue,
I only see you,
In a clear rearview,
Don't look back,
Make sure you get as far away as possible before I turn,
I pretend to turn the lights down but I still burn,
No measure of holy or unholy prowess will keep me away from the thing I won and earned.
— The End —