Backseat Ride

After our argument,
asleep in the back seat.
Thumb in your mouth,
as if on your mother’s teat.
In my rear view.
Our words and your.
I swear I’d never help.
Yet I always do.
I want to be else where.
Yet here I again sit.
Life is too fleeting
to continue with this shit.
I am too tired
to drive too far
so we have stopped,
stranded where we are.
If I try to explain
that somehow we can’t grow
the pain in my stomach
would let me know,
you’re my responsibility
as I am yours.
No matter how we fall
we’ve become each other’s floors.
Turn signal resounding
as if announcing
that this would all turn around.
With sobs
or a coo
I’m being introduced
to a new you.
Please stay asleep.
My eyes straight ahead
despite the high beams
on the back of my head.
I fear how much trust
you have invested.
Though it was terrifying.
I confessed it.
I have a persona
of almost indifference.
Despite the fights
we have a resilience.
It’s a sorrowful thing
to cling to this sort
of strange relationship
with all the scars
from battles fought.