Paid Passage

Our friends are at the bus’s front.

We’re sitting at the back;

The girl I like and I ‘cause of

The way bus seating’s stacked.

We’re all coming back from a trip

At the beach this weekend.

I think she’s letting on to me

That we could be more than friends.

The bus ride drags. Everyone’s tired.

She turns to me with a groggy smile.

And cuddles up to my side,

Resting on me for the long bus ride.

I feel the warmth and trust from her

That I’ve wanted so much.

I hope she feels it for me too

In her caring, gentle touch.

We can make each other happy

Away from all our friends

If you’re there, God, please make sure that

This bus ride never ends.

Rest stop comes. She’s now awake.

She flirts with a friend on the bathroom break.

Back on the bus, my heart is dead;

I find her cuddling with him instead.

I find a seat up at the front.

Can’t sleep ‘cause my heart kills.

My friend asks to use my pillow.

I ask for sleeping pills.

We trade our things, and I think how

We both are nonchalant

In giving to each other just

So we get what we want

Mutually selfish in

Our generosity.

Thinking only of ourselves

In reciprocity.

I’m woken up when we arrive.

I find that I’m not hurt

That, when getting off the bus,

She has a newfound flirt:

There will be others in my life.

She’ll have hers filled with men.

We all still need someone to have

That warm feeling again.