under the limit
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.
our hands brushed as we scooped for the popcorn,
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…”
you don’t have the fuckin right to cry over this
over what’s missed.
you fucked it up in the first place, and now you’re all like
get a grip.
my brain screams at my heart to just shut up,
suck it up.
my brain used to be stronger than my heart,
i think the tide’s turning, finally.