Headlights
Cast a line from the step of your door,
Torn through desert, fields, ocean floors,
Pierce my cheek and drag me to shore,
I only wanted to knot the end.
Follow you down the rabbit hole,
A dirty hand in mine, grip strong and cold,
Dig for keepsakes through buried bones,
I don’t think I can stay here.
I never knew there was more than this,
The burn of your colours on the inside of my eyelids,
Now I pick up my shoes from the foot of your bed,
You don’t get up, I won’t turn my head.
Weathered hands and standing tall,
Gripping brick at the foot of your wall,
Again I will climb, and again I will fall,
Throw off the dust and start again.
Gas in the tank and trees in the headlights,
Swinging around trunks, twisted growths in the night,
Laid at the centre, a child painted white,
I can’t keep doing this.
You never meant to carry all these events,
Bouquets of regrets, they spill from your hands,
Now you pick up what you can and present them to me,
You don’t get up, I won’t pretend that I see.
Pick up the phone, machine gun cry,
Words in the void, crushed in codes and signs,
Knuckles white, receiver glued to mine,
I just redial and try again.
3am with your car in the drive,
Engine is idling, open driver side,
The wheel brought you here, past the hospital signs,
I won’t keep letting you in.
We never wanted to live on our knees,
Dwarfed by the world and collapsed by our promises,
Now I unfold from your arms and get to my feet,
Please don’t get up,
Please don’t watch me leave.
