Sometimes I can't find my way out
of your car when it's dark outside.
maybe I want to stay a bit longer,
rest my head on the window
and look at the moon overhead,
the street lights zipping past
like all the dreams I've never had.
perhaps I want to listen
to the music trickling from your speakers
or your voice dripping with knowledge
while hugging my backpack to my chest,
and smell the soap you always leave on your dash.
but we both know a letter can end it all,
crushing everything we've built thus far
like a star closing in on itself.
so take me to a different place,
send the lights spinning even faster
and we'll sit here and think,
volume low but still feeling desolate,
collect our shattered pieces with delicate fingers.
for I know if we ignore all the signals
we can get there before sunrise.