my car knows me better

a funny poem about how a girl feels more comfortable and seen by her own car than the situation-ship she is in.

the only system to see every emotion i possess

it's mechanics ignite as my voice breaks

from the heat under my breath to

tears rolling down my cheek

my cars nylon seats

soak up all feelings of anxiety.

my car is sleek and grey

her interior is contrasted by vibrancy

of small figurines sitting upon the dash

words written on paper hung by push pins

and i, a complex ray of colors, its’ owner

sitting behind the wheel just waiting to be seen

my car might be the only thing to really see me

as i stare at my reflection in the side mirror

“objects may appear closer than they seem”

how does she know i pull away at the right moment

that i am measuring the perfect distance in between

the spaces between you and i

i don’t want my car to be the only thing to know me

i don’t want the figurines on my dash to understand me

more than you

i guess i have to hand over control

but i dont drive a tesla i drive a honda civic

and so far ive known her longer than you