it was a wet gray day when i hydroplaned my way to get yet another big piece of forged steel, when trying to turn back home it stop spinning at all. just weeks from starting the autocross season. and it was just sitting there looking so good, and being so dead.
tried some maneuvers, made some calls, got it here then got it there in the fog, till I made some more calls, spent some more money and drive into the warm spring time night setting for the start of the works.
i wonder what's the name of the game, when no game is to be played, when i just need to pull the trigger but have no bullet. this night she shines so bright, and to see her smile makes me so happy, and her perfect eyes staring at me makes the dark cold night feel so sweet. and i talk and say a lot of words, but the ones that i need to say are not coming any time. i look back and she's gone from my sight, but she stays all the time somewhere between my forehead and my chest.
finally after tons of sweat and all kinds of grease and dust, it still sits there looking so pretty, being not so dead this time but almost useless it breaks my spirit at times every other night. and i still travel the miles to get to that hole, and do the autopsy, just to clear all suspicion and assess the total damage inside of the broken heart. and i know it's going to take some time, and it's going to break my wallet too, but i'll get something out of this that's for sure.
tried some maneuvers, made some calls, got it here then got it there in the fog, till I made some more calls, spent some more money and drive into the warm spring time night setting for the start of the works.
i wonder what's the name of the game, when no game is to be played, when i just need to pull the trigger but have no bullet. this night she shines so bright, and to see her smile makes me so happy, and her perfect eyes staring at me makes the dark cold night feel so sweet. and i talk and say a lot of words, but the ones that i need to say are not coming any time. i look back and she's gone from my sight, but she stays all the time somewhere between my forehead and my chest.
finally after tons of sweat and all kinds of grease and dust, it still sits there looking so pretty, being not so dead this time but almost useless it breaks my spirit at times every other night. and i still travel the miles to get to that hole, and do the autopsy, just to clear all suspicion and assess the total damage inside of the broken heart. and i know it's going to take some time, and it's going to break my wallet too, but i'll get something out of this that's for sure.
i still wonder what's this feeling, what are these thoughts rolling round my head day and night. i still wonder what she feels, what she thinks. and i look down to the desk and a piece of paper is waiting for me, so she goes back to that space somewhere between my forehead and my chest, into the background, while i go back to the place where feelings don't matter.
then the night turns into another day without getting the news i've being expecting all this time, and somehow i go back to an uncomfortable position where i can only stare that one side of life. then when she talks about her she gets so emotional, and i want to give her my arms but i freeze up and just hold my emotions again, trapped inside my door.
feeling shouldn't matter everywhere, specially here in this space between my forehead and my chest. would i be able to smile still?
then the night turns into another day without getting the news i've being expecting all this time, and somehow i go back to an uncomfortable position where i can only stare that one side of life. then when she talks about her she gets so emotional, and i want to give her my arms but i freeze up and just hold my emotions again, trapped inside my door.
feeling shouldn't matter everywhere, specially here in this space between my forehead and my chest. would i be able to smile still?
No comments:
Post a Comment