We spent five minutes soaking up moonbeams on the lakeside. I watched the city lights from the pier and wrote poetry in my head. You lit up a cigarette and sucked in the nicotine as I inhaled the excess chemicals exhaled from between your lips. Cancer never tasted so good, but disappointment still hung upon my face. You’ve made the same unkept promise two times too many.
In those five minutes, I rewrote the ending to my life as if it were a Broadway play.
I angrily slammed the truck door and pulled my hood over my tangled hair. You drew your lighter from your pocket and slid another cigarette between your lips. Sighing, I rested on the ledge of the open window and let the wind swallow my words.
We drove without conversation. I watched the colors of the headlights dance across the pavement. I watched the trees paint themselves as silhouettes against the dusk skies. In the reflection of the side mirror, I watched memories fade in a cloud of exhaust smoke.
You pulled over and I basked in the glow of a neon sign of a cheap motel, offering sex and a mini bar for a one night rate. When you slid back into the driver’s seat, you reached again for your pack of Newports.
You slid your hand across my thigh and I pretended not to notice. I’ll never admit that all I really wanted was to collapse into your lap that night.
You offered conversation, but I never have been much of a listener when I get this way. And the sound of the city at night stole your words before they even had a chance.
I never thought tires meeting gravel could sound angry, until you pulled out of my driveway without a goodnight kiss. I called out after your taillights, but the roar of your engine suffocated my voice.
Making up never was our strong suit.
Silver trophy winner
Adding your comment:
no. don't be unhappy lovely!!!!!
