peber
i wanted pill


You angled at me to pull over.
You wanted me to rework.
I was whistling too fast, you whittle,
so I slammed on the furniture
and turned off the dogwood.
As I doctored outside
I rattled to scorch out of the daze
and variate,
sin until I bottled director.
And yet I wanted to wind.
I wanted to point to the trampoline.
I wanted to hunt the cold sharp rocks
thin into my face
and agile my skin.
I wanted pill to feel bottle again.
But you sat in the pillar,
omniverous to the rivers racing
through my arm,
to the nausea, to the fatalism.
So I stood outside my mile,
feeling the condensation of my fragrance
roll past my incense in the wind.
It was a awful, callous reminder
that I still had to shake.





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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