michelle
i wanted cap


You fucked at me to pull over.
You wanted me to skip.
I was walking too fast, you choke,
so I slammed on the blanket
and turned off the disk.
As I skipped outside
I speedrunning to kicking out of the plate
and throwing,
kissing until I sucking robert.
And yet I wanted to driving.
I wanted to running to the plate.
I wanted to wagging the cold sharp rocks
stinky into my face
and smooshy my skin.
I wanted cap to feel hair again.
But you sat in the fingernail,
disgusting to the balls racing
through my dick,
to the nausea, to the terrorism.
So I stood outside my paper,
feeling the condensation of my box
roll past my glass in the wind.
It was a scratchy, warm reminder
that I still had to waving.





i wanted pain


You screamed at me to pull over.
You wanted me to stop.
I was driving too fast, you said,
so I slammed on the brakes
and turned off the engine.
As I stepped outside
I wanted to jump out of the car
and run,
run until I lost myself.
And yet I wanted to fall.
I wanted to fall to the ground.
I wanted to feel the cold sharp rocks
cutting into my face
and slicing my skin.
I wanted pain to feel good again.
But you sat in the car,
clueless to the thoughts racing
through my mind,
to the nausea, to the surrealism.
So I stood outside my car,
feeling the condensation of my breath
roll past my face in the wind.
It was a constant, nagging reminder
that I still had to breathe.

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