#cadillac
TRIGGER WARNING
I think maybe
I want to die
I think so, I'm not sure.
Don't really think
About cutting
Just don't want to endure
I guess that I
Just know that when
I see a gravel ledge
I wonder if
It might be nice
To drive right off the edge
I think maybe
I want to die
I could be wrong, I guess
All I know is
Sometimes I feel
I live under duress
I don't know what
This feeling is–
An illness, I suppose
But living does
Not give me life
No scent holds to a rose
I think maybe
I want to die
I think so, I don't know
Oblivion
Seems much preferred
To more days moving slow
Colors, they don't
Seem as bright
The sky–it starts to fade
I wish it would
Be over now
And I could waste away
I think maybe
I want to die
I almost did last week
A flash of white
And silver hues
And tires start to squeak
And when the car
Came straight for me
I promise I won't lie
I had no thought
For my own life
I think I want to die.
Sep 4, 2025
Sep 4, 2025 at 5:27 AM UTC
I don't need a Mercedes Benz.
I'd rather be surrounded by a group of friends.
You'll never hear me wish for a Cadillac.
I'd rather know someone has my back.
If you offered me a Lamborghini, I'd trade it for a dinner and movie date.
But they say love is what makes a Subaru a Subaru.
That's why it's my dream car for me and you
Aug 13, 2019
Aug 13, 2019 at 10:36 PM UTC
Like a dried out pen,
you lay before me.
Perhaps you served a purpose once,
back in the days
where leaves still blew
through these Cadillac-filled streets.
Vanished and forgotten,
like a goldfish
in a bowl without food.
You'll starve eventually
from the poverty of your mood.
Like a torn photograph,
the image of you is scratched, incomplete,
a deflated soccer ball
lying somewhere in the street.
A dried out pen
can write no more,
but it does not negate
the works it wrote
once before.
Apr 26, 2018
Apr 26, 2018 at 6:52 AM UTC
that night, I saw bodies in the motel bathtub
beckoning like a 50's Cadillac
back seat beats and Father's
bottle of snatched brandy up
to bring back our youth
and stay
for one last whisper in a last-innocent ear
the diner lights buzzing like
a lifetime of loss to mistakes
that can be little more or
less than broken glass lies
Apr 23, 2015
Apr 23, 2015 at 9:28 PM UTC
Neal Cassady
February 8 ,1926 - February 4 , 1968
San Miguel D'Alene , Mexico
Dead from extreme exposure
Four days short of forty-two
Only fitting , next to a railroad track
He had many words to haul back
The wolf sleeps next to the silver rail
Howling at a silver moon that fell
I see here he drove a ******* Cadillac
Through the San Francisco streets
With the top down
Smiling free , it was meant to be
Life is a quasar
Nov 19, 2014
Nov 19, 2014 at 10:01 PM UTC