PostPoems Be Artistic. Be Creative. Be Inspired!

I find myself sitting in my rusty car

No carpet...

Currently the air is off

Leaving me in the 95 degree weather



I'm sweating...

I just sit here though

Knowing I'm in agony...

I don't care



A cup of water...ice melting

A good book...I have yet to pick up

And my phone...that has yet to ring

It won't sadly...



I feel alone...

Most of the time I am,

Well, when you are working that is



I stretch my leg over across my seat

The fabric is hot against my skin

Even though the passenger side is empty,

I feel her...

She is here with me...

She always is though



She looks just the same,

The same as she did six months before she left...

Golden hair,

Noble bright eyes full of wisdom

Laughter fills my mind

While smoke rolls out of the window



Time passes and she leaves me...again

She visits often though

I can smell her scent on my steering wheel

An old, musty, nicotine, and lilac aroma

I feel safe...



Sweat rolls down my face,

I turn off the ignition,

Get my glass...ice is now gone

Book in hand...still not a chapter read

I shut my door and smile

As she sits once again on the passenger side

Smoking another long cigarette