A Poem by Kristin

It's funny. I love you's sound a lot like the sound of car tires screeching. And you would think--after hearing it so many times I would wear a seatbelt, but windshields look like dares; and the asphalt looks more like empty promises you left just for me. The taste of gravel in my mouth, sounds just all too sweet and I will wake up reminding myself that I'm no longer a kid in a candy store and that this--this is not what a sugar rush is supposed to feel like and gravel tastes nothing sugar. And I remind myself that the tree on the side of the highway is not a promise and neither is the road I'm driving on. That no matter how close I try to wrap my car around it every night,everything was just as cold as it was five minutes before it. And that no amount of sugar will satisfy a child.

© 2017 Kristin

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as a child of abuse, i used to conjure up images of me being thrown from a motorcycle onto the asphalt, and like sandpaper my arm would be scraped off to the shoulder...your use of the metaphor is refreshing

Posted 3 Years Ago

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Added on July 22, 2017
Last Updated on July 22, 2017
Tags: Writing, poem, poetry, love, car, relationship, death



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