The Truth About That Accident.
That car was on fire
and we were burning inside.
The engine sparked
when your fingers coiled through my hair
and the flames licked the frames of your glasses
and melted plastic dripped
on my lap.
We could of held onto anything worth saving
and that was only each other.
That was only each other
and what little hope we had in a world made for silly thoughts and dreaming.
The truth is,
at that moment, I would burnt to ash if it meant I could hold you longer.
At that moment, I would of burned forever
just so your coffee would never get cold.
Our bones were made of metal
and as the heat became as thick as our thinking,
we welded together.
Our marrow and our metal.
Our veins and our tin.
The steering wheel and the doors
and the tires and the rims
and our lashes and our legs
and the headlights
until all we were and ever would be
was part of that car
And that's where I always left us.