somewhere out of here (on the other side)

We transcend words in the silent invocation of disappointment
our reflections - memories of the bruises we once wore in triumph
refuting our own stupidity while chasing some imperfect high
that never lasted more than a whisper before we combusted
under our own intensity

A burnt out car on the highway a crumbling monument
to driving drunk and singing loudly that we’d fuck the world
in latex body suits for our own protection
because “who knows what you’ll pick up
out there?”

While we never made it further than the road block
at the edge of town – at least not together
when it was the one line you’d never cross
and I never could stay away from the road kill feathers
floating up and out of stagnant familiarity
just to see if the grass was a new shade of different
on the other side

© Indie Adams 2012