Garage Stalemate

Digested and spit out.
Look at what we’ve become.
All the things I’ve done.
You thought we’d come around,
the passing traffic pays no mind
to the hum; streets and pavements
grounded over a lifetime of small favors,
repairs and traction for us to run each other>>>>>
out of our lives.
Who knew this place was sarcophagus-like
and stripped of imagination?
Pulled the vehicle in slowly and let the engine run,
no daylight exhumed and the garage door shut.
I manage to escape the fumes
because nothing can exist in the dark,
smothered by exhaust
deterred by retaliation.

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