(no subject)
you are driving too fast.
again.
it is night, the wee hours of the morning and the only light is the surrounding halo made by your headlights. the curtain of light is reflected off the fog and road dust so thick you can see nothing but the light. you stopped paying attention to the speedometer, and the road miles ago, and frankly, you're not even sure you're still ON the road. you are driving too fast, again. the music blares and the subs thump out a gut rattling tone, is it the uneven terrain or the vibrations that rattle your mirrors?
you are chain smoking...
again.
reaching for your pack of Marlboros you find it to be empty. as ound of disgust and you fling it mindlessly into the back seat, reaching under the seat for the last pack in the carton. light the cigarette. you switch tracks to something more aggressive. even in the blackness and swirling fog dust your mind wanders to the box of unsent letters, unread poems, unheard songs. all for her. you wrote them for her years ago, but never had the guts to present them to her. now she's gone. you have someone else now, but you can still feel the warm press of "her" along t the length of your body. you remember exactly how "she" feels when you cuddle up to her at night. when she is already sleeping and you crawl under the covers and under her arm and you both fall into the easy mold of each other.
you think about her daily, even when you're with your new love, you cry somtimes...
when you're lying in bed together. you miss "her".
but you're still driving too fast
and your thoughts are catching up to you. in the distance see the twinkling of red and blue. the white strobe. if you cared enough to turn the music down, you could probably hear the wail of the siren, trying to lure you into cessation.
you race along the desert terrain, the twinkling, blinking, strobing lights bearing down upon you.nothing in the night, but a purple winking halo closing in on yours closing in, coming abreast, frantic, shouting words of warning. panic.
veer left
nothing.
all sound drops out. only the whistle of the car sailing through the air, plunging into the stygian night.
you think of her.
again.
it is night, the wee hours of the morning and the only light is the surrounding halo made by your headlights. the curtain of light is reflected off the fog and road dust so thick you can see nothing but the light. you stopped paying attention to the speedometer, and the road miles ago, and frankly, you're not even sure you're still ON the road. you are driving too fast, again. the music blares and the subs thump out a gut rattling tone, is it the uneven terrain or the vibrations that rattle your mirrors?
you are chain smoking...
again.
reaching for your pack of Marlboros you find it to be empty. as ound of disgust and you fling it mindlessly into the back seat, reaching under the seat for the last pack in the carton. light the cigarette. you switch tracks to something more aggressive. even in the blackness and swirling fog dust your mind wanders to the box of unsent letters, unread poems, unheard songs. all for her. you wrote them for her years ago, but never had the guts to present them to her. now she's gone. you have someone else now, but you can still feel the warm press of "her" along t the length of your body. you remember exactly how "she" feels when you cuddle up to her at night. when she is already sleeping and you crawl under the covers and under her arm and you both fall into the easy mold of each other.
you think about her daily, even when you're with your new love, you cry somtimes...
when you're lying in bed together. you miss "her".
but you're still driving too fast
and your thoughts are catching up to you. in the distance see the twinkling of red and blue. the white strobe. if you cared enough to turn the music down, you could probably hear the wail of the siren, trying to lure you into cessation.
you race along the desert terrain, the twinkling, blinking, strobing lights bearing down upon you.nothing in the night, but a purple winking halo closing in on yours closing in, coming abreast, frantic, shouting words of warning. panic.
veer left
nothing.
all sound drops out. only the whistle of the car sailing through the air, plunging into the stygian night.
you think of her.