"letter from a car"
I hate the word "pain" because I hear it so goddamn much
From people who are just in a mood,
That when I'm seated behind the wheel of a car
In a closed garage with the keys in the ignition
As the engine goes on, off, on, off,
I can't say I'm in "pain" because "pain,"
Is when your "boyfriend forgot to call last night."
I love you. I'm capable; I'm sure; and I swear it.
But when pain to you is upset from something else in your life,
and it is non-brandishing, temporary, and curable,
Then, disillusioned, I see your purity rotting silently as it is next to me.
And it is as quick and complete as an oil spill.
Darlings, my loves, I simply cannot do that to you,
and please don't make me. Make "pain" mean some hurt feelings,
and I shall bow out gracefully, with peace, and finality.