In the Backseat

Letting you go, may be the strangest pain my heart has ever truly known. From a place with you in the stars to the backseat of my car, I’m loving you deeper now– even if it’s from afar. And I imagine it’s because I have failed you in some ways. Received your live a few days too late. Going against the grain in my not so decent days, probably some sort of reflection I couldn’t entirely face. I lost you, now, an emptiness I can’t replace. As my heart skips and slows to a beat I’m struggling to use my voice, my vices and another shitty six-month lease. Probably the middle of nowhere or some shack in Tempe. Crossed paths, looks and cross streets. Towed to the next city.

I dont really know how to say this, but I hope I never have to see you again. Except for today. And maybe again next weekend with lots of miles in between. Still saying the words I never mean. Meanwhile you’re being a dick. Go figure. I can’t seem to fight off all the Indian givers, fake ass losers and occasional winners. And I’m still chilling in the backseat, listening to Sublime halfway down 27th Street. 

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