It was there for my beginning

Through every car seat, tantrum, and spill

90s R&B blasting from front to back.

I knew I was home.

Those leather seats were mine,

Although they could burn my legs or make them ice cold.

My name written by a little 7 year old on the right backseat.

The raven black ink meant it was all mine.

From singing candy rain, and angel

To reminding you of the moon.

That car was yours. Not mine.

That’s why it was so special to me.

That summer evening in 2010 broke me

From the inside out like it did this 1999 Jeep.

It wasn’t because the car gave its last all that was my downfall.

It was the fact that it was one less thing I’ll ever have from you.