Lovers People In Cars Don't Face Each Other
i drove alone to Buffalo and scratched a heart around
your name on every rest stop vending machine i passed
along the way..
(i'd taken speed for days)
i took picture from the car window, these colored blurs
of time, and left them for you by the pay phones because
i can't call or write. it's just been too much time. the
road was without winter glow just dreary landscape and
the whimper of the radio and a rubberbanded picture of
your face around an old mix tape you'd made. i still
think i'm going home, i packed my things in crooked
lines, and took a pill i nicknamed hope to change this
mood of mine. like a mocking dog and pony show in the
back rooms of my mind, like a swim in the undertow, i
can't see it but i sure feel it all right. i miss you
every night. i miss you tonight.
