i wanted toast


You was at me to pull over.
You wanted me to hike.
I was washing too fast, you throw,
so I slammed on the computer
and turned off the cat.
As I saw outside
I saved to stare out of the hair
and write,
sneeze until I entered Lady.
And yet I wanted to jump.
I wanted to sleep to the cabinet.
I wanted to bouce the cold sharp rocks
blue into my face
and yellow my skin.
I wanted toast to feel wheel again.
But you sat in the nose,
soft to the geese racing
through my arm,
to the nausea, to the plegerism.
So I stood outside my bowl,
feeling the condensation of my grass
roll past my dog in the wind.
It was a smooth, red reminder
that I still had to run.





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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