It’s July and it smells so sweet, and the air feels heavy when I breathe in. Inside I’m rusted but outside the sirens tease me with their lights. It could’ve been different. I could’ve been getting high in your SUV while your mom calls relentlessly. You ignore it, say it doesn’t matter, “she knows where I am,” but does she know where you’re going? It could’ve been different. I could’ve been a little more desperate when the pills didn’t work and the car, well, it always died. It could’ve been different. I could have been losing track of time, crossing over solid lines. You could have been dreaming for a while. I found you sleeping like a child. You might have lived if I had known the signs. Maybe I could see you again. Getting by on minimum. Started a fire in my mom’s kitchen. Now she's pissed off. Yeah well it doesn’t matter, at least I know where I’m going. They all think I’m bluffing, but who said that I was all-knowing.
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