under the limit

by .me.

ow.

says my heart as I drive away.

I ignore it.

It’s just remnants of a time gone past

a time gone fast

a time gone, not to last.

Turn left at the lights,

RBT up ahead,

turn right at the lights.

Imaginary conversations with the police

rattle through my brain

yes, officer, I have been drinking

but I was polite

I mean, I was sensible

1 schooner, 1 shandy, 1 middie of beer

and always the 1 whisky.

In 6 and a half hours, I know

I’m under the limit.

Turn  next left,

more imaginary conversations,

“then Miss, why are your eyes red?”

my eyes aren’t red, except the left one was earlier after I accidentally rubbed salt from the popcorn in it,

during the movies.

the movies,

our hands brushed as we scooped for the popcorn,

goddamnit sheppard,

stop noticing every little thing

stop feeling every little thing

stop missing every little part

of him that used to almost piss you off.

“so why are your eyes red, Miss?”

they’re red now,

the tears drop down my cheeks,

down my chin

roll towards my cleavage

“relationship problems, officer. You know…”

goddamnit sheppard

you don’t have the fuckin right to cry over this

over him

over what’s missed.

you fucked it up in the first place, and now you’re all like

boo-fucking-hoo.

get a grip.

my brain screams at my heart to just shut up,

suck it up.

except…

my brain used to be stronger than my heart,

i think the tide’s turning, finally.

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