(no subject)
I’m counting down the time we have together,
Seventy miles to Charlotte,
Seven miles vanish at a time.
I’ve wasted fourteen miles, just sitting next to you.
The months of waiting to see you,
The days we were together,
Have all since disappeared, leaving me only fourty-nine miles.
If only she would drive slower,
We’d have more time together.
I hold her hand and nothing else matters.
The passing trees blur into a mix of green and brown,
The sky above is blue, no clouds in sight,
And then there we are, together.
Inseparable are the bonds between our hands, fused with sweat and emotion.
With twenty-eight miles to go I kiss her,
She almost veers off the road but we laugh.
With each passing moment, I can see the past few months dissolving.
Why can’t we be born back into the past?
I say something stupid, something I shouldn’t have.
With twenty-one miles to go she won’t talk to me.
Suddenly I can see individual trees.
We are no longer sailing towards an inevitable conclusion,
Our segment is extended infinitely,
Except it is a bitter one.
She is so cute, even when she is mad,
But her scorn is painful.
With fourteen miles my opportunities dwindle.
I say “I’m sorry” and reach for her hand.
She pulls back with a glower.
I know she is mad, but I want to savor our last moments together.
I think to myself, “I did not fly 500 miles to fuck this up at the last minute,
No matter what, just let her know that she is right.”
I look to her but she won’t look back.
Seven miles.
Seven grueling miles.
Maybe a tire will pop, or the engine will explode.
Maybe she’ll get pulled over for speeding,
For racing to our ultimate separation.
The sign for the airport is the bearer of the bad news,
Two miles until we reach the point where dreams are simultaneously realized and shattered into a million shards which, no matter where they are sent, ultimately come to stab me in the eye, permanently blinding me of the beauty sitting half a foot to my left, who still refuses to acknowledge my existence.
I would prefer the dagger of a million enemies than the angry stare she gives me piercing through my existence.
She decides to pull into a parking lot to give me a final chance to win back some of the treasure I lost.
Minutes of silence pass. The last time I said anything, I messed it up.
I messed up months of preparation, and longing in one slip of my tongue.
One stupid outburst that could kill everything.
I look to her eyes covered by sunglasses, but she stares right back at me.
I look down to the seat, and then raise my head again, hoping that something had changed, starting the whole cycle over.
My plane leaves in an hour, I have but a few minutes to make up.
Finally, my eyes meet hers, covered by the sunglasses.
My eyes are watering, and it is becoming hard to keep them focused on her.
I won’t back down.
I tell her I was stupid.
Whatever it was, it wasn’t worth having her mad at me.
Whatever I did it…
One tear streams from her eyes.
It escapes from underneath her shades,
And rolls down her cheek.
A single drop saying a million words,
But most importantly it says “I care.”
I grab her hand and lean in.
Our lips touch and I don’t want them to be separated.
The last twenty-one miles have been erased.
I can finally leave her knowing I will never leave her.
Seventy miles to Charlotte,
Seven miles vanish at a time.
I’ve wasted fourteen miles, just sitting next to you.
The months of waiting to see you,
The days we were together,
Have all since disappeared, leaving me only fourty-nine miles.
If only she would drive slower,
We’d have more time together.
I hold her hand and nothing else matters.
The passing trees blur into a mix of green and brown,
The sky above is blue, no clouds in sight,
And then there we are, together.
Inseparable are the bonds between our hands, fused with sweat and emotion.
With twenty-eight miles to go I kiss her,
She almost veers off the road but we laugh.
With each passing moment, I can see the past few months dissolving.
Why can’t we be born back into the past?
I say something stupid, something I shouldn’t have.
With twenty-one miles to go she won’t talk to me.
Suddenly I can see individual trees.
We are no longer sailing towards an inevitable conclusion,
Our segment is extended infinitely,
Except it is a bitter one.
She is so cute, even when she is mad,
But her scorn is painful.
With fourteen miles my opportunities dwindle.
I say “I’m sorry” and reach for her hand.
She pulls back with a glower.
I know she is mad, but I want to savor our last moments together.
I think to myself, “I did not fly 500 miles to fuck this up at the last minute,
No matter what, just let her know that she is right.”
I look to her but she won’t look back.
Seven miles.
Seven grueling miles.
Maybe a tire will pop, or the engine will explode.
Maybe she’ll get pulled over for speeding,
For racing to our ultimate separation.
The sign for the airport is the bearer of the bad news,
Two miles until we reach the point where dreams are simultaneously realized and shattered into a million shards which, no matter where they are sent, ultimately come to stab me in the eye, permanently blinding me of the beauty sitting half a foot to my left, who still refuses to acknowledge my existence.
I would prefer the dagger of a million enemies than the angry stare she gives me piercing through my existence.
She decides to pull into a parking lot to give me a final chance to win back some of the treasure I lost.
Minutes of silence pass. The last time I said anything, I messed it up.
I messed up months of preparation, and longing in one slip of my tongue.
One stupid outburst that could kill everything.
I look to her eyes covered by sunglasses, but she stares right back at me.
I look down to the seat, and then raise my head again, hoping that something had changed, starting the whole cycle over.
My plane leaves in an hour, I have but a few minutes to make up.
Finally, my eyes meet hers, covered by the sunglasses.
My eyes are watering, and it is becoming hard to keep them focused on her.
I won’t back down.
I tell her I was stupid.
Whatever it was, it wasn’t worth having her mad at me.
Whatever I did it…
One tear streams from her eyes.
It escapes from underneath her shades,
And rolls down her cheek.
A single drop saying a million words,
But most importantly it says “I care.”
I grab her hand and lean in.
Our lips touch and I don’t want them to be separated.
The last twenty-one miles have been erased.
I can finally leave her knowing I will never leave her.