You pick me up in your parents car.
A black Acura, bender 848 is the license plate.
The car is already almost full so I get into the backseat.
You are taking me to a party, I am happy to go but still, scared of the unknown.
We arrive at a house that smells of beer and broken trust and teenage angst and other things I am not used to being around
You offer me a hit, I decline.
You offer me a drink, I decline, you take it back and sip it like it’s nothing.
Like it’s water.
Like you do this too often.
Because you do.
And I am scared of everyone and everything here.
Scared of everything and everyone but you, I am so close to grabbing your hand out of fear, but I don’t. It takes everything I have not to cling onto your leg like a 3 year old. I point to the door, you shake your head no. I regret not taking the drink or the hit. I am sober and I am a loner, alone in this corner.
You are dancing with your friends, they are my friends too but they look so good next to you.
Like you were all made for this moment right here, to have red cups in the air and not a single care
To be given
It makes me happy.
You know all the Words to this song but don’t start singing until you are looking at me.
You make me so happy.
The red cup you’re holding switches from cup, to bottle to shot.
You have no intention to stop
Your dancing turns to stumbling carelessly around the living room.
The music has stopped, the party is over but you are dancing still.
We all pile back into your car, like it’s the only place we can possibly find refuge.
Someone offers to drive, you refuse.
You are playing music.
It is loud.
Too loud for 2am.
But you do not care
Because you are singing along
You are singing off key in this black Acura, your voice is louder than the sing cry thing drake does and I’ve never been happier, I am laughing in the backseat. Deep down I’m scared were gonna crash. You are still singing. Eyes closed. Carelessly. There’s a red light. None of us see it. Even though it lights up the entire car. There is a red light but you aren’t looking. You are singing. But you are not stopping. Your foot and the gas pedal are lovers that don’t want to let go of each other. There is a red light and a there is a truck. We don’t see any of them until they hit us.
It is quiet now. Your song has turned to screams. And glass is littered all over your face like glitter, they reflect the red light and shine like stars. Sirens sound like melodies and I am waiting for your song.
have stopped singing.
Leena T is an aspiring spoken word artist from Toronto, Ontario