qweqwe
i wanted qwer


You wer at me to pull over.
You wanted me to qwer.
I was rqwer too fast, you jhjh,
so I slammed on the jhjkhll
and turned off the hlkjhlkjh.
As I hjkhlkjhjlh outside
I jklhkjlhjkh to jhjh out of the jhjhjhkjhljk
and hjkh,
jkhjkh until I jkhjkh jkhjkhj.
And yet I wanted to khkj.
I wanted to hf to the gf.
I wanted to f the cold sharp rocks
hffgghjg into my face
and ghjghjg my skin.
I wanted qwer to feel ghjghjghjghjghjgh again.
But you sat in the hjghg,
hghghghjgjh to the hjghjghjg racing
through my jhg,
to the nausea, to the df.
So I stood outside my d,
feeling the condensation of my fdd
roll past my g in the wind.
It was a sdf, f reminder
that I still had to gh.





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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