i don't usually get
the car all to myself,
because my brother
doesn't like to let me
drive. but today, it's
just me, alone in my
dad's shiny silver grand am,
with its brand new fender
and headlamps, a tiny
afterthought in the car
i love so much. i know
where you are and i want
to talk to you, offer you a
ride home because i don't
want to go straight home,
but i'm afraid of you declining,
saying you need to go on the bus,
or that he's going to take you
home. (even though i know
for a solid fact he never does.)
i want it to be me that
provides, not anyone else,
although i know it's a stupid
wish. i stopped providing months
ago, only to sit and watch
from the sidelines, like a
mother without custody, watching
someone else care for
the her precious child.