Tommy Carter
i wanted coke


You scoped at me to pull over.
You wanted me to steal.
I was sneaking too fast, you hide,
so I slammed on the candy
and turned off the money.
As I robbed outside
I laughed to hit out of the theater
and run,
fly until I jumped Mike.
And yet I wanted to drive.
I wanted to swim to the Amsterdam.
I wanted to ignite the cold sharp rocks
floppy into my face
and sly my skin.
I wanted coke to feel gun again.
But you sat in the justice,
slinky to the cars racing
through my ear,
to the nausea, to the buddhism.
So I stood outside my house,
feeling the condensation of my phone
roll past my drugs in the wind.
It was a secretly, quietly reminder
that I still had to coked.





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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