I've seen you before, but not like this.
We were tangled in a mess of bed head and morning breath and it was one in the afternoon.
There was no need for words as your index finger grazed the cavern of my collarbone and we struggled to stay inside and breathe because those open windows just let in the dessert heat.
And here you are, with your visor cap and a trash bag amounting to nothing more than a gas station clerk with a bicycle.
You stay here, I'll head east for a life where we never have these awkward run ins
Where the only isle I'll ever see in front of me is a road in a cave of trees heading in your opposite direction.
I'll take bathroom breaks at truck stops and avoid filthy stares while I sit in my car and watch the shadows of cottonwoods dance across my windshield, because that's where I wanna be.
I don't mean to sound to cold, but if my only option is you, than the only sound I ever want to hear is the silence of my being alone. If my only choice is to be with a man who can't bother to look me in the eyes when's he's loving me, than God grant me patience because it's gonna be a while.
This isn't what I had intended for us.
I saw a lifetime of stimulating conversations with a wrap around porch and dark cherry hardwood floors.
But that could never be enough for you, you wanted a view of the lake and cold tile to greet your cracked heels every morning.
You stay here, with your visor cap and gas station dreams, I'll head east to a life where I never again have to struggle to breathe.