We’ve been here before: confusions high, tempers boiling, and the pressing question of whether or not we should be here.
I watch as your knuckles start to turn white as your grasp on the steering wheel gets tighter and tighter.
“I hate it. You gotta quit saying that” slips out of your mouth in a hushed tone.
I turn my body and look the other way trying to avoid your stare but still feeling every ounce of its
intensity on my back. Exhaling through my mouth
I gather the courage to face you again.
The sky’s just starting to turn dark and the only thing allowing me to see the complexity on your face
is that stupid street light we carved our initials into by the house three doors down.
The truth is that we’ve been here before and I know that you hate when I say
those stupid little thing that really have no relevance at all. Yet I continue
saying them trying to get a deeper thought from the person in front of me who’s turned into nothing more than a duplicate
of one of the moths swarming the now flickering light down the street.
The silence creeping over us is everything but quiet and I know
what’s coming. A techno melody began to play as we both let out a sigh.
It was 1 AM and we’re right back where we started.
“I hate it. We gotta quit doing this.” The telephone light from three doors down was still flickering
as our legs stayed wrapped up in one another.
We’ve been here before: unsaid thoughts, unanswered questions, uncontrolled confusion.
You always say we gotta quit doing this but night after night you lean in for another kiss.