you parked and i cried
THIS is not my usual kind of story. no neon, no smoke, no puke. believe it or not. no sex, no tears, no love. something about this world really hurts on monday afternoons when the sky’s gray and all i can do is listen to sad indie tunes and think about jumping back into the sewer.
you parked the car by the side of the road, it was too bright for us to call this planet Earth. i was on the verge of tears. i wanted to rip my heart out of my chest so it’d shut up for a minute. i wanted to lean over and kiss you. i wanted to die. it was too bright. but i didn’t cry. my eyes didn’t even water.
you talked but someone (was it God?) stuck cotton balls into my ears and i just sat there watching your lips move. i wanted to be a little fly eating dust on one of the buttons on a typewriter. maybe the d.
see how it escalates inside my head? inside my heart? i don’t need my brain and i am tired of my heart. you finished talking and i nodded, turning down your radio. you tried to look into my eyes but i was making love to the window. it was cold and nobody came. i used to love our house.
THIS is where it ends. you drop me off at the nearest gas station and drive off southward. the sun follows your rear bumper. my eyes stalk the dirt on the ground and when they reach my shoes i fall down to all fours and bleed from my nose. might be the mountains. might be my heart. my stupid little heart.