eggs

i burned my eggs this morning, badly.
smoke hangs on the air
like a worry.
i'm scared to look at you;
you do not look at me.

i tried not to but
i dreamed of the road again,
in the night;
it has been weighing 
on my mind.
in my dream
i could not move.
my feet were planted firmly
in the asphalt.
you were there, 
standing to the side
in your worn out coat
screaming words i could not hear 
as the headlights bore down;
you screamed at me
but would not move to save me
and you were the car
and you were the driver
and you were the pavement that caught me.
i do not remember ever
being so afraid.

i fear this stillness, too,
this stagnant air
this pregnant silence
at the breakfast table
this growing tension
in my chest: 

i love you
in the end i will leave you.
i love you
you will not ask me to stay.