“Craft your own poem that recounts an experience of driving/riding and singing.” (https://www.napowrimo.net/day-eighteen-11/)
Our little red Hyundai isn’t big enough to hold so many memories, nights of bored driving, shared ennui, screaming along to NIN’s cover of “Get Down Make Love”, you so excited to have me listen to the Sugarcubes, I let you see me weep as Tori Amos shared her pain.
We were so young, so sure we knew what was up, angry and passionate like our music, confused about our feelings, excited and hopeful and scared for our future, you always hated how I dove into mosh pits heedless of how dangerous it was, I always wished you’d let go and let yourself dare.
When you sang along to “Losing My Religion” I knew you were trusting me with your soul, when I raged along with “Jeremy” I trusted you to sit with my anger and know you were safe from it.
But you weren’t safe, and I was dangerous, and I knew you needed to leave if you wanted to thrive, as you drove off in our little red Hyundai, too full of memories, and I hoped someday you would remember the good ones.
John the Librarian 
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