"headlights" poems
Even sunflowers need the rain to grow
Like recycling scar tissue you refuse to show
Like holding the words to a cookbook containing the recipe for disaster
Like the blood of an open wound placed by the whip of an unruly master
Even sunflowers need the rain to grow
Like when you finally learn the meaning of you reap what you sow
Like a magnificent sand castle washed away by the sea
All the sand becomes one and denies the right to be free
Even sunflowers need the rain to grow
Like the sting from the phrase I told you so
Like a deer caught in headlights frozen dead in it's tracks
Like gazing the stars if we could just climb the smoke stacks
Even sunflowers need the rain to grow
Like excluding truth from what you think you know
Like playing life in a game of poker, and the *** is everything but cheap
Karma has the high hand, face up, read'em and weep
Even sunflowers need the rain to grow
Like running through red lights because all you want is to go
Like a jack of all trades who can't fix his own heart
Like the tortoise that took off before the race even start
Even sunflowers need the rain to grow
Like a hundred oars and no arms to row
Nov 4, 2010
Nov 4, 2010 at 8:31 AM UTC
Tell me I'm not this. The blue began to flood
inside a room once painted black. Tell me I don't
see this. The orb of morning peering its start right to
my eyelids that can't even close. Tell me I don't hear
this. Birds chirping for sunrise, playing lightly as my
lullaby. Tell me I'm dreaming. My leg still twitches,
seven in the morning, because I'm afraid I'll lose myself
before dawn. Shedding emotion in fast waves of flight,
tell me I didn't run through time, making stars out
of daylight. Orange in the sky, and not from shy
headlights in insomniac cars. Yellow, making its fellow
opening for my uncomforted sleep, not a nightlight like before,
no. Tell me I'm not this.
Mar 15, 2018
Mar 15, 2018 at 10:19 AM UTC
Deceive me
Lie to me
**** with my head
On the edge of the cliff
Then you pull me to bed
Your love is a drug
*** with you gets me high
I’m a full blown ******
Makes no sense; don’t know why
You're an ever present torment
The fission laser splitting my mind
A jig-saw puzzle that was completed
Slowly each piece from each piece you unbind
Seductively you tear me down
Like the clothing you disrobe
A deer staring into headlights
I am frozen on the road
The weight of the world bearing down on me
As those focused beams get closer
Gladly I welcome them
Even though I’m not supposed to
Every rational thought I have
tells me how wrong you are for me
But they are drowned and muffled out
No more thoughts; keep your pennies
No sensible way to explain
Why I ******* love you so much
You’re a psychotic crazy *****
that I don’t want anyone else to touch
A blowtorch ignites a flame
A fire fierce and burning bright
Even though I know it will burn me
With all my gathered strength and might
All it takes from you is that look
You cast that Vampire’s gaze and grin
Instantaneously my defenses lowered
and you know you’ve ****** me in
Immerse myself into the flame
Intense pain; you melt my skin
Until pain I feel no more
I’m enveloped in your sin
And like a ****** choosing dope
Everyday, your sin I’ll take
I will gladly sell my soul
The most egregious of mistakes
A preying succubus appears
like a dreamy demoness
A world of dreams are turned to nightmares
Fills her needs for human flesh
Feb 19, 2018
Feb 19, 2018 at 10:39 PM UTC
you are the song
i want to listen to
in that cliché and timeless
3am moment on the highway
windows rolled
down with the
potential-filled and empty
yet comforting indigo
sky blowing past,
only car on the road
just us, me with my
feet up on the dash,
fingers interlocked with
yours on my lap,
headlights illuminating
the road and trees
ahead, can’t think about
anything else except
for the pulse of the night
and cold air on my skin
and oh God
this is my life and
i feel so alive
Feb 12, 2015
Feb 12, 2015 at 1:09 AM UTC
They drove me across the country,
from the busy city where we departed
to intimate villages where they recessed,
and spent a star filled, moonlit night
singing songs,
their bodies casting long, wavy shadows
from campfires they huddled around.
Just as I got too cold and my wheels
couldn't turn anymore
did they finally turn the spark plugs,
revving and igniting my despair and sensitivity
producing heat.
Sometimes they pushed
until I shoved
and scraped my rubber
on asphalt,
on rocks,
on sand,
on boulders big and small,
and I hit a flat-line;
the air I could hold in
no longer.
They rode me into a forest
whose undergrowth was as thick
as a bears' fur during the winter,
and redwood that spanned the horizon
you thought it could pat the constellations.
A forest teeming with life that
one would react like Wendy from Peter Pan--
never wanting to leave Neverland.
And I could see it in their
soft faces and squinting eyes,
bright and lit up with joy,
every detail apparent
as if I burst my headlights into high-beam,
directly on them.
It was there I ran out
of gas and my engines
parched for oil,
from the endless adventure
that was exhilarating and memorable.
One could, as a result,
easily forget responsibilities.
There was no service or refill station nearby,
so I was abandoned where I parked,
flat tires, rusty hood, broken chassis,
dilapidated suspension.
I've proved my worth
from when I was brought in
and over time
it wasn't enough.
Only repairing, never maintaining.
Dec 15, 2014
Dec 15, 2014 at 2:11 AM UTC
Inside these dimensions of my prison,
paralyzed, immobilized,
shattered in fragments of fear,
I utter stifled screams
from my body heap,
piled on the hardwood floor
c
r
u
m
b
l
i
n
g
trapped, desolate and
wretched in mind,
what is left of me after invasion and ravage?
Chase away this these vultures and thieves,
so to shut out this duality
blinding me,
a rabbit caught in headlights
up
me
pick
Apr 15, 2014
Apr 15, 2014 at 5:08 PM UTC
The night sounds of fallen angels
Building stairways back to home
And the radio plays softly
Like a crooner left alone
As the night falls into the velvet shades
And beats down the bedroom door
Of all the visions that come to me
It's of one I'm hoping for
The postman closes up the station
And the buses get cleaned with rain
The asylum rests and barely breathes
As the countryside goes insane
Prophets speak of peace
On the dim hue of TV screens
Of all the moments that seem real
I still wait to watch my dreams
Imposed upon the westward wall
Are the silhouettes of weeping oaks
Swaying in the wind that talks
But they only tell me jokes
Swept beneath the silver stars
Sleeping on blanket clouds
Of all the space above me
I feel as if I can't get out
Headlights and passing trains
Sound like time passing by
Gone are the hearts inside
Like the years beyond my eyes
Sounds from the suburb city
Blow like sirens in my mind
Of all the thoughts within me
Only one freezes time
Jan 16, 2016
Jan 16, 2016 at 1:20 AM UTC
I am lonely, not lonely
the choice up to now
has been mine
I will slip away
(at will)
into the recesses
of small shops
of empty rooms
or quiet spaces
to avoid her touch
or his gaze
or their judgement
our subconscious desires.
But all swallowed up
deep in the belly
of fog, of smoke
a vast, impenetrable
night sky
suddenly the
all-encompassing fear
grips me
washes over
so suddenly
I realize
I have not lived at all
that I am
suddenly
(forcibly)
the only one left.
Down a long, winding road
that trudges on endlessly
into the fading silhouette of trees
and broken sidelines
dim headlights
I am lonely, not lonely.
Oct 22, 2014
Oct 22, 2014 at 6:29 PM UTC
Who are you and why do you have this effect on me?
You walked in the room and I can hardly breath
Do you make me nervous on purpose, or is it just me?
Are you doing this on purpose?
I'm falling so quickly
I don't wanna rush it and call it too soon
But if you were the sun, then I'd be the moon
Your eyes illuminate the streets with the only light I can see
I'm just a deer in your headlights when you look at me
Take me anywhere you want to go
I'd follow you into the dark in places I don't know
Wherever you are is where I want to be
You're everything I want, and all that I can see
If you have a hint of doubt about the things that I have said
Just believe me when I say, you do laps inside my head
If you leave it up to me,
I'd tell you to stick around
You be the tree,
I'll be the roots in the ground
I'll help you grow and try to give you everything you need
Darling, it'd make me happy if you grew old with me
Mar 2, 2014
Mar 2, 2014 at 11:04 AM UTC
Goodnight moonlight,
Sweet dreams, moonlight,
I am away now,
Driving under your blanket, your bright stars lighting everywhere dark,
It is a late hot summer night, however I have turned the heat on, on this long summer road,
It reminds me of you,
Warm, open, and free,
I like it this way,
Windows down, hot air blowing, there is no room for cold here,
I like to play the radio soft,
It reminds me of you,
Stevie, you feel like the 80s,
And your voice reminds me of hers too,
My headlights illuminating the street signs just enough for them to dance, like everything has just a little bit of magic in it,
The first time I met you, you shook my hand, moonlight, and you were embarrassed about it, I thought it was kind of cute,
I might just keep you in my chest pocket on this ride home,
I will see you tomorrow night,
Same time, same place,
Goodnight moonlight
Jul 22, 2018
Jul 22, 2018 at 2:17 AM UTC
Is there tear gas in this room?
Because I can't stop crying
The gas crawls down my esophagus
And crushes my wounded heart.
“God this hurts”
I keep typing,
Praying to computer screen
That I'll forget the smell of your hair
I type till my fingers bleed
So I can forget what your touch feels like
How our lips fit perfectly together.
“God I hate myself”
The only phrase I think of
When I'm pleading for things to back to normal
Back to the days
Where you didn't want to to crack open my skull
And see all of the ugly things
That drift around my cranium
“Baby please I'm sorry. I’m a mess,
A klutz, who waltzes around with stupidity
Baby I get this feeling in my head
When you are not around
I want to keep writing you these love letters
By sliding them under your doors called your eyelids”
But I can’t
I sit alone in the bus called life
Looking across my seat
I see you, my love
Holding onto the bar
Your pretty Blue headlights
That make me drawn to you
Your pretty Blue headlights
Covered with the rain I caused
I'm a rain man,
you see, when people get close to me
I get scared
And force the skies rain to tears with pain.
The only thing that floats in my mind
Is that I hope the man of you life
Buys you flowers
Sunflowers especially
And shows up to your work unexpectedly.
I hope you can travel to Paris
and keep a long list of all of the countries
you've cuddled in.
With him.
I hope you he can handle seeing the stars
From your eyes every time you guys cuddle
Under the moon light.
I hope he can teach you how to slow dance
And I hope that he can teach me
On how to be a better man.
Nov 6, 2014
Nov 6, 2014 at 12:38 AM UTC
Kevan Fuchs died today in his sleep
In a similar way as his father of one
And actually, also my father did too
Of those bitter, big cancer scourges
Which always come in unexpected
In this short enough life, a bit early
I've known him ever since first, when
We were knee high to Dad's shotgun
Throughout our small neighborhood
We would all roam to see and look
For ***** toads and such other fun
Without any known end in our sights
We often, came all together, at once
In his parent's, little Clovis back yard
In the under ground, in our deep dug
Wild little clubhouse of our new pride
Approved by our jealous Dad's stare
Made all by ourselves, with great care
Eight by eight, with three feet of deep
Shagged carpet floors, walls around
And places to hide stuff with those
**** magazines we wished to remain
Unseen by our parents, although they
Surely lived through similar wild times
Black lights , fluorescent mod posters
Fans to cool, while there in the deep
Kept the place comfy, from several
Hot summers in New Mexico's heat
Staying nights over, in conspiracy we
Came colluding, while hoping no fame
This place was our place, of known
Refuge from all of the big crazy, with
Frightening world still yet to come
Giving us our youngest freedoms
And also so much being in trouble
As kinda neighborhood hoodlums
Far up his Dad's, tall, two-way radio tower
One of us in care would climb
With binoculars to see the dark night
With our pair of walkie talkies held
Warn the others, carousing around
Of any plight, in appearing headlights
Kevan's brother, still alive, Keith
My other brother by another, Buddy
Also at first, a weird guy, named Chris
One other member, as second cousin
Who actually, was my very first kiss
When it was hard to aim, lips to miss
All bound as one, by made up signs
And part of something called PSO
Which, if you don't know well, what it
Truly means, then you were definitely
Not a part of the so very high bliss
Which we suffered through so often
Kevan's true nature is clearly proven
Finally, most completely, at his end
In the nature of his wonderful loving
All his family, who also so loved him
And all those other parties to trouble
Who also so loved, really all of him
© 2017 Jim Davis
May 4, 2017
May 4, 2017 at 9:18 AM UTC
Doom train hurtling along
Through the fog in my mind
Towing freight, rectangular and oblong
Dim headlights, you're travelling blind
Five carriages long, excluding engine and caboose
Metal against metal, spitting sparks on steel
Undetermined path, rails will choose
Chugging along on dirt covered wheels
In the cabin, I see the light
Emanating from your furnace
Swallowing up coals in your gaping bite
Tongues of flames licking the surface
Fire breathing, spewing thick black smoke
Almost unseen, against the dark of night
A long plumy arm as if extending to choke
And plug the remaining sources of light
Meandering precariously on tracks that weave
Over uncharted, unfathomable terrain
Your store, so reliably you heave
Worming your way through my brain
What's in that cargo of yours?
What lies within those boxcars?
What drives you to diligently run your course?
What fuels you to travel near and far?
Loads of self pity, self loathing and self reproach
Snaking your way to an unknown destination
Screeching brakes as if a stop you approach
Herald the train of dubious intentions
Light is upon you, dark will dissipate
Your plumes starting to lessen from your stack
The dawn breaking horizon you didn't anticipate
To see another charging towards you on this very same track...
Sep 27, 2014
Sep 27, 2014 at 4:16 AM UTC
the electricity runs through our veins
and past the street signs we rumble by
in the car you stole, we go fifty above the speed limit,
the roof of the car is the noir sky above
and the midnight rain pelts our upturned faces
the dancing drops of water drip onto our smiling lips
the sound of the sky collapsing
echoes the flashes that streak the sky,
the flickering light casts paved roads with a brief brightness
(as if god were wearing light up sketchers)
the lacy brallette that wears me
gives me the bravery to stand up in the speeding car
the velvet pants that ripple with the wind
drink up the nighttime rain
and the rare headlights race past us,
heading into homes and hearts
the mellow playlist that connects the aux cord to our ears blasts
so loud, we can no longer hear our insecurity
the mascara that once clung to my eyelashes
now streams down my face.
on a two way street,
we drive down the middle
unafraid in the face of direct dangers
so unaware of the towering empty skyscrapers
and instead highly exhilarated
from the street signs we drive by
too fast to read the blocky lettering
the road signs glint, smiling as we wave and reach towards them
the cigarettes you smoked are thrown through the open window,
still smothering slightly.
i can still taste the smoke on your lips
and your hand tucks my hair behind my ear
and as the wind objects and inhales
unreal in the hazy a.m. car trip
the tunnel rushes towards us,
and we both hold our breaths,
as if breathing would contaminate us.
the lights that glint, cast a yellow-white glow
and for once, i see you for who you are
a boy too buzzed to feel
a kid who only felt "sort of"
a person who couldn't heal
and a lover who could never give love
Jul 11, 2018
Jul 11, 2018 at 3:34 AM UTC
this is how it happens
it's the last day the temperature will be
above thirty-two degrees Fahrenheit
until February
you're not looking at the date
it's just the end of November
the middle of the night in the middle of a road
at the end of November
the hum of this small town hurts your ears
you're stuck in a dream where everything you see
turns into a weapon
this is how it happens
you knocked back sharp, amber liquid
to make this place feel a little more okay
and it only worked halfway
no matter how soft the edges are
you bruise your hips when you
run into them in the dark
you're ******* on your fourth cigarette when
a police officer pulls over and asks
how you're doing today
in the too-bright white of the headlights
the sick taste of Red Stag sticks to
the roof of your mouth
the mouth that you're moving into a smile
the mouth exhaling plumes of smoke at the ground
you're okay
"i'm okay."
you don't tell him what you're really doing
you're really taking all of your
thoughts about stopping your pulse for a walk
you don't tell him you've been
chasing ambulances all night long
please, officer don't leave me alone, you don't say
he tells you to have a good night and drives away
and this is how it happens
the moon smiles at you with every single one
of its tiny, sharp teeth
nobody but your cat finds you in that bathtub
nobody but your cat watches you rise from red water
watches it drip drip drip
from every chasm carved in your left arm
nobody but your cat saw the soft animal of your soul
shiver from the cold that day
it's the first day the temperature
dropped below
thirty-two degrees Fahrenheit inside your chest
Dec 7, 2017
Dec 7, 2017 at 9:48 AM UTC
Your laugh was a cloud
Loud
Enveloping
Mist which covered me without the
slightest resistance
insistence
I needed assistance to breathe
Your laugh shows I'm useful
shows there's a need
For us
as I feed on the delicious awkwardness we
shared
Caught unawares by being liked
It's a shame your laugh
was the cloud which hid
a trucks headlights
crash
shared
spent
Your laugh a narcotic cloud I refuse to repent
Jan 12, 2015
Jan 12, 2015 at 4:13 PM UTC
When someone praises me
I'm like a deer
under headlights
Of course I'm delighted
beaming,
even
But I really don't know-
how to respond
...
Do I brush it off?
Act like it's
not a big deal
whether or not
it really is
And move on
to another
subject?
...
Do I just stay quiet
Look down shyly,
and smile?
Or just let the conversation
pass me by?
...
Do I adamantly
reject it?
Refuse, and insist
to the point
that the person
before me
ends up
fighting with me
about
it?
...
Do I roll with it,
faking non-existent
confidence?
Owning up to it,
sometimes
in a joking manner?
...
Do I immediately
switch the topic
to praising
the one
who praised me?
Or have them talk
about themselves
to turn
the
attention from me?
...
Or, do I just smile
large and wide
and thank
the person?
...
I don't know
and it irritates me
that I can even have trouble
with something
as lovely
as a compliment
...
It's not
negative
hurtful
or even
a criticism
...
So why does it
bother me?
...
Maybe
...
I care too much
about what others
think of
me
Sep 27, 2018
Sep 27, 2018 at 9:15 PM UTC
it is hell
to have loved someone-
to know you love them
right now, still-
so much and for so long,
and to realize
you don't actually feel
them loving you back.
if you turn onto
a one-way street
in the wrong direction,
it is still dangerous,
against the law
even if you didn't see the sign.
and just because i love
and my love is accepted
does not mean
i'm on a two-way street.
now i'm crushed.
between metal and metal
i'm crushed. in flashes,
when you speak, i see
myself chewed between your teeth.
so when you light up when you smile
when i say in some way that
i love you, you are also
the oncoming headlights,
appearing suddenly,
coming at me on the highway.
Apr 20, 2014
Apr 20, 2014 at 12:33 PM UTC
The Radio is turned up loud
And we're all just singing along
With the windows down
We don't know where we're going
Just off into the future
To chase our dreams elsewhere
Were young and were dumb
Couldn't care less to listen
To the warnings our parents gave us
Then in the blink of an eye
All our life is flashing
Like the headlights we didn't see
In a moment caught in a car crash
All the radio plays
Is the silence of our beating hearts
Sep 28, 2014
Sep 28, 2014 at 8:59 PM UTC
In a sermon, the preacher says:
*"The Lord created us in his image,
all who desecrate themselves
too destroy a part of God."*
I've murdered pets and
alphabetised people by
sense and style and laughs like
a rack of dresses.
I've kissed girls just because
they said they could never like me
like that
as if their lips were some
sacred maiden's blush and not
a pair of fleshy rims.
As if I couldn't read their
***** little lesbian fantasies
underneath those
angel faces.
Susan from accounting thinks I need
to see a therapist. I think she needs to see
a mirror. We don't really get along, but ****
maybe if drink enough
these clocks
these blue collars
these billboards with the pearly white teeth
won't look like straightjackets anymore.
I have this thing where
sometimes I'm just so tired
of being a body.
The world's a ******* advertisement,
Everyone with their scripted
good mornings and
chemical feelings
down to the last **** t.
My skin is a cage
and I'll strip it off like
a *****
Why be happy when you
could be interesting?
Love like a bluejay,
Fists in our stomachs-
The headlights of a car coming
at 80 miles an hour straight at you,
pummeling in a stream of light.
The taste of a cigarette after
it's been on someone else's lips.
Don't you dare tell me you understand.
When I tell her this
my therapist only smiles,
Darling it's only purgatory.
Allen knew. Nietzsche knew. Woolf knew.
In all our hearts-
We've already killed God.
Dec 14, 2018
Dec 14, 2018 at 2:49 PM UTC
#
There was a time
within me
I wanted to be
an actor
beaming
on stage
or a screen
big or small
no matter to me
after all
The exposure is nice
I guess
and all that kind of stuff
but that’s not what drew me to it
Just being an actor
was enough
I enjoy performing
and have a memory
for lines
One of those people
who can quote
a whole movie
It plays in my head
can fast forward
and rewind
But it’s easy to recite
the work of another
One who already
searched within
and discovered
what to emote
the affect
and such
To replay like a puppet
That’s not saying much
Could I nail
the scene
and get the feeling right?
When other actors work with me
maybe they might
get inspired
to the point
they become lost in the scene
We’re reliving
the story
A fantastic team
When the director yells
“Cut!”
all applaud and cheer
Tears in the eyes of some
touching memories
they hold near
The performance
The “art”
that’s what matters most
A singer belting out a song
or a comic
at a roast
The thought of it now
gets me giddy
and inspired
but yet
here I sit
In my chair
I am mired
Never took that step
Overcoming
all that fear
My doubts and insecurities
Worry how much others care
That fear
of failure
or that I wouldn’t
“measure up”
A deer frozen
in headlights
I am forever stuck
And as the time continues on
The days, and months and years roll by
Which is the greater loss?
If I failed
or never tried?
#
Aug 8, 2018
Aug 8, 2018 at 4:20 AM UTC
Before I met you, I never knew what it felt like to look at someone and smile. To be happy just because someone is in my presence. I read somewhere the human heart beats approximately 4,000 times per hour. and if I had to guess, I would say 3,999 of those beats are spent on your laugh and your smile. The way the lines that form at your eyes look like our future together. how your freckles spell out 'i love you' just in case I ever started to doubt you. that one extra heartbeat I save for the moment you touch me because I know once you let go I will miss you so much I will end up sinking into oblivion. when I lay in bed at night I start to see the outline of your body the car headlights form a shadow on my wall. I hear the sound of your voice every time I flick the light switch and most nights I stand leaning against the wall continuously turning the light on and off and on and off and on and off and on and off. I've started sleeping with the phone next to my pillow just in case you call. you're the only one I want answering the phone as if hearing someone else's voice could bury me six feet under. I barely get out of bed anymore and it's not because I'm tired or lazy but because I've been digging my body into my mattress to try and feel your warmth. when you lie awake at night, unable to sleep I hope you think of me and know I've been trying to go to bed but I can't make it past the light switch.
Dec 21, 2014
Dec 21, 2014 at 10:05 AM UTC
A beer can, phone book, a grapefruit
and an Advent wreath
with four candles
in its nest of greens
Two weeks
Two lit
Third one's the Pink
a life three quarters spent?
Next weekend
Saturday-- The Sabbath
falls in Hanukkah
“Blessed art thou, Lord our God
King of the universe
who dost create lights of fire...”
I'll light that third-- the pink one
like a barbarian wise woman
who traveled too far along life's way
to find a Jewish baby, wrapped in rags
...or, was it the old guy that night
lying in the street
outside a New England bar
“Oh Christ! Ya gotta be kidding me!”
Nope, He was there alright
Wallowing in the freezing slush
amid his helpless drunken cries
No cell phones then
Scrapped my pizza plans
On foot alone
waving in frustration
in the passing headlights
a turquoise, wind-crazed scarecrow
______
“Someone's gotta stop?
Someone has to help us, don't they?”
______
Now there are two beer cans
a grapefruit, and a phone book
beside the advent wreath
Third candle lit and leaning out
for hope along the way
Dec 15, 2017
Dec 15, 2017 at 3:05 PM UTC
My couch,
Is death,
And avoidance is a second language,
Ask me do I speak it?
Conjoined twins,
Of misery and manipulation,
No calls,
Only cushions and customer's custom complaints,
From tomorrow,
The phone wont ring,
So I'll stay down this road,
Listening to headlines and headlights
Sing,
Moody music dwelling,
Where the lies and shame met in between,
Cut the cue, end the scene
The stage has been rebuilt,
We talked like teenagers,
And you told me that I've changed,
But the same,
Still that same number,
No more gap,
But your smile still kills,
Pain with palendromes,
We were here before,
And so again we,
Our fighting saying goodnight,
Street lamps in different cities,
Static.
I'm just fine,
Playing my part,
My mainstream maybe different,
But
Obsession has been overcame,
By the rising tide of a smile,
If the teleprompting signs shine through,
Meanwhiles and meditations
What can I do,
Except hope I'm reading,
The
Right
Script,
The couch,
It asks,
Where have you been?
I set down another,
chip.
Jun 13, 2018
Jun 13, 2018 at 1:41 AM UTC
How deep were we in?
Restrained by chains that burn our skin
Car headlights, a hush falls over
Shines through the window, time feels slower
I hope he knows that we care
He grabbed him, dragged him by his hair
Cry, scream, or maybe not
Could have done anything, but we couldn't make him stop
Jul 10, 2018
Jul 10, 2018 at 3:10 PM UTC