Writers Jam

rain pitter-patter on the asphalt
my tears tap-dance
my tongue in a whiplash
one moment your candy kisses
and tasting your indifference the very next
as you take a road trip
through the highways built in my ribcage.

you shift gears
your hand brushing past my thigh.
i hold onto your touch.
i live on bits and crumbs.

i ache for your eyes to lock with mine
full of love for once and not neglect
but you cruise past my love with your indifferent heart.

if this were today
i would have jerked the steering wheel
until both of us crashed –
glass rattling
wounds rotting
on the wet pavement.

rain pitter-patter on the asphalt
my tears tap-dance
and my breath smells of diesel.

your hand did brush past my thigh
not now, now here – it was yesteryear
or maybe it was –
three summers and three thousand arguments ago.

gravity pulls me down and the wind slaps my mouth shut
the same way you cracked my lips open that night
and i spilled like wine staining myself red.

i remember
my blurred face pleading
i blinked and your hand smeared harder against my skin
pity sloshes inside my guts and i feel dizzy.

the pitter-patter of rain and my tears on the asphalt
your kisses on my skin immediately after you bruised them
i see now it’s all the same.

i take the bus to a new city
people get down at the stations
new faces join me
the brakes screech, i get down
the road unspools faster than i can breathe
and then the quiet of the wind
in search of a new city, you see, somehow
i am standing in front of your door again.