i will take that night to my grave, sitting in my drive way listening to each distinctive car sound as it passed down the intersection in front of my neighborhood trying to match each engine sound to your car, the first hour i thought every car was yours and I could hear each car as it raced fast down the street away from me like every person I’ve ever met.
Phone call one: no answer
As time moved slowly and I smoked my way through a whole pack of cigarettes and the misquotes ate at my skin like they hadn’t bit anyone for days, and not one bite was felt. All the cars passing by sounded all the same now.
Phone call two: no answer
The second hour seemed to move so slowly as my eyes stayed focus on the cars on the end of block, I waited for any second to see just that slight gleam of a reflection of your lights to coming down my street, and every second it seemed you got further and further and your car would never reach my house.
Phone call three: no answer
Phone call four: no answer
Phone call five: no answer
i have become the anchor at the bottom of the ocean waiting to pulled up, I have become the misquotes eating at my own flesh and the next day I wore my my bites proudly, running down my legs and asking does this person understood I would have sat there for hours, like a dog waiting at the door.