Cool Hipster Garbage Soup

I’d pay a million dollars for a piece of your breath

A slice that was just inhaled for me

air that escaped with your lips with mine on your mind

I want to be the one to thin your skin

because that would deny more distance between

my hands and your heart

I want to touch you

wrestle my fingers through your cool hair

slide em across that cool jean jacket

and whatever cool hipster garbage soup of the day

you’re wearing

because you know I love that shit

because maybe emotional unavailability turns me on

I want a parking spot someone else is in

and will wait outside it for that extra fifteen minutes

if it looks like she’s leaving

you said you’re too postmodern for love

well I’m too post the modern

past these daily scams of romance that burrow into our social media

tell us to communicate with each other

but not ourselves

selling temporary as an asset

and connection as collateral

I’ll shut you up

tell you not to be another one of those artsy damaged boys

who’ve left my atria out to rot before

but I really mean don’t be that obvious about it

you never go out for the drive

when you see the collision down the road

shrapnel

shards of windows

shreds of tires

rubber rushing across the tar

I never see the blood

just the steel

as if I was never inside of it at all

it was just a piece of me

a borrowed body filled with fluid affections infecting

like gasoline pouring through veins

because I’ve been conditioned to see love as merely fuel

for art or gossip

precious somethings than qualify me as wanted

so I twist my wheels forward

pretending I will reach the horizon

but baby I want to collide with you

crash pieces of myself against your flesh

eroding my hard skull

to break through some of my thoughts

I don’t want to think

I want to fall through you

wander behind you

let me be your shadow

drag me across the ground

just let me grip you by the heels

and follow you through the universe

throw the crinkled balls of feelings

at me

I'll try to catch enough of them

glue bits together

until the shreds

shape the man I want you to be

or at least I want to have

If you’ll have me.