chained to these keys
staring into a screen swearing it is my fucking window to the world...
But I know someone else is driving my car,
out on the open road
with windows down, music blaring and winds blazing through his hairs.
What the hell happened?
That's my car. That's supposed to be me.
Running from the fury and enjoying the freedom of the outside.
This is abuse of the worst kind - it is self-mutilating.
I handed over the keys, I said, "Drive for me, please."
And, at the time, I meant it. At the time, I needed it.
But honestly I let this shit go on too long.
I want to fucking DRIVE.
Now we've had a fight and HE gets to flee?!
Oh NO... that is simply UNacceptable.
Stuck here with my limited vision,
my god-damned limited health
and with it I can't even express fury the way I used to.
Justice is lost...
I am limited even in my humanity.
Is there anything else that can be taken?
The tears flow hot and heavy.
I lost this battle, but it's not with him.
Now I know it was never with him.
I still hurt over my body's betrayal to this soul....
So much more to heal,
still battling with the fact that, "I can't drive,"
Go on... say it again, the dogs aren't listening,
"I CAN'T drive."
You know why, too, of course.
"...it isn't safe..."
But, Nicole, that doesn't mean you can't LIVE.
Now remember why you love him,
remember what the hell HE'S been through.
He's just about the last person on the planet you should be fighting with.
Let him drive,
he'll be home soon
and he'll be bringing back your car.
This post was written for the Red Riding Hood Prompt. This week's assignment was:
This week, we want fightin' words.I actually had half of this written raw, in the middle of a fight (as you can probably tell) with no intention to post it, but when I saw this prompt I thought it must be kismet.
Write a piece about a fight. What happened? Why? Who "won"? What were the repercussions?
