Wednesday, August 18, 2010

gats in the back

i remember

driving in his car
summer was beside me
windows were rolled down
my hair was growing

and he was asleep,
on the bedroom floor
huddled in warm materials

and i was escaping to run errands
and listen to this new music
that i had rambled inside my head

and their voices
were chants
that were never coming back
and i drove without melody
or even a simple thought

i drove like i was carrying a knife or a gun

the fearless one

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