car ride

a/n: perhaps at 6.17am, or maybe on the bleachers. multiple meanings. i guess.

it is as if i am game to

dedicate you my heart but

before i gear up the razor 

slices a slit through my chest

you're plunging one hand in and the other

squeezing my sides 

wrenching, ripping, oozing it out and

never

stitching me back together

i never dream of bleeding

at your hands but the first renegade 

glissades and smears.

two three more –

can't.

breathe.

stupid, stupid, stupid.

this is a vicious cycle.