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Poetry

A collection of poems, cover by: @itsmarrosee || I am the fray at the end of the yarn, cut from the new blanket, before it becomes a gift.

MY CAR

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by heyalihey

by heyalihey

*TRIGGER WARNING* there are references to depression/suicide.

Driving on the highway.

20 years.

Then.

burning.

I can't pull over.

I smell smoke.

I don't see a fire.

but one is on the way.

The passenger smells the smoke and yells.

ADJUST THE CHAIR.

SKIP THIS SONG.

FIX YOUR LIPSTICK.

"Not now," I say.

But she doesn't understand.

a fire is starting to burn this car.

She just knows my lipstick is bad.

The fire is shining from the backseat.

My family would miss me if I stopped this car.

But it's on fire.

and fire hurts.

But I need to go on.

so I scooch the chair forward.

Play the next song.

Reapply my lipstick.

Why didn't me adjusting the chair put the fire out.

Why didn't the sound of a new song put the fire out.

Why can't I put the fire out.

I think I should pull over now.

at least my lipstick looks good