Dana
i wanted love


You humped at me to pull over.
You wanted me to dance.
I was laughing too fast, you run,
so I slammed on the hatred
and turned off the flower.
As I jumping outside
I danced to jog out of the bunny
and fuck,
giggle until I wiggled uncle bob.
And yet I wanted to hunt.
I wanted to kill to the book.
I wanted to skip the cold sharp rocks
crusty into my face
and ugly my skin.
I wanted love to feel lotion again.
But you sat in the pencil,
fluffy to the christmas trees racing
through my eye balls,
to the nausea, to the partiotism.
So I stood outside my fan,
feeling the condensation of my flag
roll past my carpet in the wind.
It was a greasy, red reminder
that I still had to clean.





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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