Headlights by James Zimmerman

The sunshine on your face was blinding. The light reflecting on those gentle amber eyes, crows feet and smile lines…

I was only sixteen.

So happy, living in ignorant bliss, the youth we took for granted. Joy in your smile and fire in your eyes but I can’t quite 
recall when the light started to fade. 

I loved you.

I loved you like books I’ve read a million times, I loved you like my favorite TV show, like walking through my neighborhood at four am. 

I love you like I love dying on the floor. 

I loved you like gasping for breath in the middle of sobbing. I loved you like the cracks in my bones as I fell from the tallest building I could find. I loved you like 
I love bleeding out on the floor by my own blade. I love you how I love the whiskey on your breath and your fingers creeping up my shirt as I slept. 

I love you like tea in the summertime on the wooden wrap around porch we built for our home. 

But most of all, 

I love you, like midnight drives, and screeching tires. 

I love you like headlights, so step on the gas. 

nothing i said ever stopped you anyways.

Biography: Tis I, James Zimmerman, blessed be my name; I will you to bask in the glory of my trauma. I give you poems and informative writing from my humble HP laptop. You’re welcome.