deepundergroundpoetry.com

Not the Car Type of Key

Hot.
Today was just so blasted hot.
Sitting in a black truck, doing that 'He'll be right back' waiting game;
Having the 'I just gotta sing bad songs til the car starts again' look on my soul.
When I crack open a sweaty Arizona can
It echos moments later on my right,
And there's a beer drinking, hairy chested, white sedan having man with a toothy grin
And deviously handsome face.
He raises his can, nods, and flicks his sunglasses off.
I just want some cash.
"Hey, baby. You look hot."
I choke back a shot glass amount of bile
Because I don't need to be doing this.
I sweet talk, coyly- I don't know if I'm a bad girl or not. Maybe just a hurt girl who's making up for lost time.
I extend my hand out the window and say "Pleased to make your acquaintance,"
But I don't use my name.
I'd have to change it.
Written by m_abbott1999 (Madi)
Published | Edited 4th Aug 2015
All writing remains the property of the author. Don't use it for any purpose without their permission.
likes 3 reading list entries 0
comments 5 reads 773
Commenting Preference: 
The author encourages honest critique.

Latest Forum Discussions
POETRY
Today 1:23pm by Abracadabra
COMPETITIONS
Today 12:33pm by Razzerleaf
SPEAKEASY
Today 11:20am by Mstrmnd1923
COMPETITIONS
Today 11:07am by Ljdynamic
SPEAKEASY
Today 10:35am by Josh