Words down below:
A Crumpled Piece of Story
She took me like I knew nothing,
put me in the passenger seat of her car
and walked me through deliverance.
Monday morning extraordinary,
I'd never driven on that highway
with the windows down until she
forced me into mussed hair and watery eyed
comfort.
It smelled like wanting history in her car,
mounds of cigarette boxes leg-room deep
in the back seat, all missing their addiction.
She sat in the front, heart-shaped sunglasses,
and I didn't think she was going to smile.
She might've been trying to impress me.
I had been carrying myself the best I
could back then, dragging my oceans
by my bootstraps.
Slowly, she told me about her mountains,
how she climbed them.
In time, she told me how sometimes
she tumbled back down, but her hands
were stained from never-not-brushing
off her knees.
She had a pocketful of tendencies,
and there was no way I was reaching inside
to see what she was hiding.
Sometimes, she would take pieces
out and show them to me, like scraps
of paper that took seconds to read
but spoke to two decades of
I'm so sorry that it happened that way.
We went out and back, again, and once more.
The radio was not broken,
but she didn't once move to turn it on.
We rode straight through summer that
afternoon, and when we finally came in
from the heat, we had become not
much more than a middle sentence
in a crumpled piece of story.
I'm still trying to smooth out the corners.
thank you.
nonsenseandchaos 4 months ago
@nonsenseandchaos Thank you? Thank YOU for listening and commenting. You made my night.
agreatperhaps 4 months ago
I forget how beautiful words can be, sometimes. Your poems remind me.
RegiRevelry 5 months ago
@RegiRevelry As always, your comments make my poems worth it :)
agreatperhaps 5 months ago