Pass with Care

November 9, 2016
By BroadwayBrainiac BRONZE, Saginaw, Michigan
BroadwayBrainiac BRONZE, Saginaw, Michigan
1 article 0 photos 0 comments

It usually went like this,
Sitting in the Mustang together,
Afternoon spring breeze trapped by the car doors,
Pent up oil running down the tires
Onto the edges of my eyelashes
Reminding me to check my blind spot when I’m with you.

But you were something I never felt before
Ripped up parking tickets out the car window,
Van Gogh’s seen on makeshift shoulder headrests,
And all the music in late-night restaurant vacuum cleaners.

So when our radio broke down in prairie highways
You’d have me sing to your whistling and stomping
All while keeping an intermission for some kisses,
And I guess I just loved the word refrain,
Because you never liked to ramble on a road trip.

And so sometimes you’d love my shoes,
Off the pedal, off my body,
Soon enough just whispering
I love your soft modal,
But I think you just loved my speed.

I always sat slouched in the passenger seat,
Often feeling car sick as you drove,
Taking none of my directions, you swerved and swore,
Suggesting I just keep my seat belt on,
Because my directions always lead to road rage in rush hour.

So when you paced around that Detroit motel,
You’d wave your arms about how I had no plan,
And I just pointed my drained finger to an empty car,
Leaving me alone on the edge of a crappy, floral bed.

You’re always telling me I’m like a compass rose.
Sweet, impressive on paper, but confusing as hell in the real world,
So I’ll just travel solo on my next adventure
Because I’m worth more than just a good ride.

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