If only there were camera’s in the traffic lights they’d make me a star
Sitting in the front seat of a beatdown suv shouldn’t feel like this, she thought she’d feel different, relieved even but she doesn’t. Instead, she feels as if she’s doing something entirely wrong, like the world isn’t on her side right now or maybe it never was. Nothing to see for miles except road, road, road, and more road, she think’s this is it for me and, it’s not. It’s the flash of green from the traffic light, the last one for hours for her to get going, the engine revs for what feels like eternity until she’s going 60 again, she feels like she’s flying and she wonders what that really feels like, flying. Maybe it feel’s like running and throwing yourself off the edge of a cliff with blue green waves waiting for you at the bottom, maybe it feel’s like the street’s of paris in winter, snow falling and icy sidewalks, lights and logic.
Take a bird and throw it against a glass window, imitate the thump of a body making contact with something other than gravity, something other than breathing. A heart cannot last forever and maybe that is a good thing in the end, maybe it’s better to just not be.
They’d make me a star.
Sitting in the front seat of a beatdown suv shouldn’t feel like this, she thought she’d feel different, relieved even but she doesn’t. Instead, she feels as if she’s doing something entirely wrong, like the world isn’t on her side right now or maybe it never was. Nothing to see for miles except road, road, road, and more road, she think’s this is it for me and, it’s not. It’s the flash of green from the traffic light, the last one for hours for her to get going, the engine revs for what feels like eternity until she’s going 60 again, she feels like she’s flying and she wonders what that really feels like, flying. Maybe it feel’s like running and throwing yourself off the edge of a cliff with blue green waves waiting for you at the bottom, maybe it feel’s like the street’s of paris in winter, snow falling and icy sidewalks, lights and logic.
Take a bird and throw it against a glass window, imitate the thump of a body making contact with something other than gravity, something other than breathing. A heart cannot last forever and maybe that is a good thing in the end, maybe it’s better to just not be.
They’d make me a star.
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