We're driving fast, faster than the speed of sound and I can’t move, pressed against your seats and waiting for the whiplash of your passion to slow down.
I guess that’s how it always felt, like I was sitting shotgun in your car on a summer night with the windows rolled down. I would watch the speedometer tick, and you would drive stick shift in my life.

I could hear my breath, heavy but silent, following the dashboard and running off my tongue.
Your hand is on my shoulder and it’s inching down my collar bones.
I can feel you getting closer, and I can feel myself retreating with every step. You step closer and I step back
Because that’s what I do- I run. I retreat, and I’m sorry.
I can feel you getting closer, and I can feel myself retreating, shaking as you play chicken down my exterior.
You smirk, because you know. You always know- you have the type of smile that feels like it should always have a cigarette parting it, puffing out rings of bad decisions. Your hand is on my leg and it's making lazy circles, and I try to fixate myself on the highway. Sometimes I think I can tell where you are without looking, like my position is space is dependent on yours. My lungs choke down the electric air between us.

You look at the road, then back at me, then down, then back to me and my heart beats thick in my throat and my knees rest against the dashboard in as a tired way of trying to look casual.
That's the thing about you- you make a girl like me, racing away from a person who loves her, into somebody who wants to wake up and see you- everyday, forever.


But I feel like I don’t retreat with you, I find myself letting you see the stupid things in the back of my mind that hurt when I’m cycling through thoughts.
and I wish you could realize that with one hand on the steering wheel and the other inching down me, I thought of so much.

I tried to imagine the car getting as compact as I could
And I imagine your interest, the way you look at me to be swallowing- I think about that a lot,
A fugitive stealing attention that I do not think I am entitled to

And I wonder if you could read my mind what you would say.