The words
race out of your mouth
like cars on a highway.
They crash into each other,
they crash into me,
they crash into my words.
The crashes are loud.
You don’t hear them,
but the silent noises erupt
and cause time to shake.
I can hear the metal crunching
in our verbal collisions.
Our love
is strapped into one of these sentences,
and these apology airbags
won’t help every time.
I wish you had a red light.