Thursday, April 9, 2015

Neruda steal a line


 You gather things to you like an old road.

 I’ve traveled down your body,

like speeding down a  highway without a care in the world.

 

You took my innocence left on a pillowcase next to me

 In the misty rain

 The feeling of a mistake overwhelms me

 

 And your smile so fake it cracks

Shades over your eyes

 Your wild hair flying in the wind

 

 But the shotgun seat’s filled with old hopes and dreams

The dirt road we once traveled, torn apart from your lies

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