CONTROL IS
EVERYTHING. YOU DON'T WANT TO BE KNOWN AS THE GIRL AT
THE PARTY WHO DOWNED MORE SHOTS THAN SHE COULD TAKE. YOU
DON'T WANT TO BE KNOWN AS THE GIRL WITH THE CAR CRASH
EYES AND SIREN MOUTH. YOU WANT TO BE STRONG, DISTANT, IN
CONTROL AT ALL TIMES. BE IN THE DRIVER'S SEAT, NOT THE
PASSENGER'S.
Poem.
My grandpa fixes cars, old ones and new ones.
I used to stare in awe, on how every car was
fixed to be like it always newly made and good.
I loved how our love was like a car driven at night.
It was the nice breeze, that came out of your mouth
that hit my neck. Your smile was like a million dollar
ticket, to happiness. How my arms struggle to wrap
around your torso, or how my hands begin to sweat
as i hold your hand, because I am very nervous.
Those kisses against my lips feels like my heart
beating my chest inside like a drum, bang bang.
Reccently, I was prescribed as depressed.
No one pays attention to those old cars, no one
usually wants to fix those old cars. I was one of those
old cars. Depressed I would, put a smile on my
face. So, they would pay attention to me. A car
that's slowly falling apart, how do you tell people,
it feels like depression is my roommate? That,
every day, is just going to be a struggle to fix myself.
That I was never an expert on fixing myself, or a car.
Knowing my love one, might never understand.
Might understand, that I feel and think that,
they need better. Every day, is the same; I am
at the brink of crying to tell my love one, don't leave me.
I am like an old car, fixable or unfixable. He leaves,
as I drive to push him away. He did walk away, I
still am the little girl who stares at awe at those cars
being fixed. To never know, I am going to be like those cars.
"I'm like a dog chasing cars, I
wouldn't know what to do if I caught one, you know? I just do
things.."--
Joker
Old person: *walks slow*.
Old person: *buys car*
Old person: *drives slower*
Old person: *buys car*
Old person: *drives slower*
If you blonde just think about brunette's, or red heads, and
vice-of-versa. One day, while a blonde was out driving her car, she
ran into a truck. The truck's driver made her pull over into a
parking lot and get out of the car. He took a piece of chalk and
drew a circle on the pavement. He told her to stand in the middle
and not leave the circle. Furious, he went over to her car and
slashed the tires. The blonde started laughing. This made the man
angrier so he smashed her windshield. This time the blonde laughed
even harder. Livid, the man broke all her windows and keyed her
car. The blonde is now laughing hysterically, so the truck driver
asks her what's so funny. The blonde giggles and replies, "When you
weren't looking, I stepped out of the circle three times!"
