The Cars They Drove
Every person I loved was like their car. Even when they drove away, they didn’t go far. Their memory lives in the roads we roamed, In every ride that once felt like home. Austin drove a Kia Soul, rustic and gray, Funny how soul was the name, when his slipped away. He’d joke that I brought the rain with my face, But truth be told, he darkened the place. He left like a storm that never looked back, Now love feels like a heart attack. He swore he didn’t want love, no strings Then loved someone new. What cruel things. And every time I see that boxy frame, I whisper his absence and curse his name. Al had a Honda Accord, smooth and clean, Took me on rides that felt like a dream. He picked me up and drove me from pain, Made me believe I could start again. His hugs were warm, his voice was soft, He held me high, then dropped me off. Truth was hidden behind his grin, I lost myself trying to keep him in. Now Honda Accords make my stomach twist, A reminder of love I deeply miss. So now I compare my loves to their ride, Because in their cars, I felt alive. But the doors closed, and they moved on, Leaving me parked where dreams are gone. Their cars still pass me on the street, And every time, my heart skips a beat. But maybe it’s time I stop holding on, Not every memory deserves a song. Maybe I’m the one behind the wheel, Learning to drive through what I feel. No more backseats, no rearview glance, Just me and the road my second chance. Let them go, let them fade, Love was a ride, but now I’ve stayed. And when my own car hums down the lane, It won’t be haunted by past pain.
