... the reason to stop.

Traffic Lights.

There's me, sitting in the passenger seat as the driver takes a turn towards a red light.

The turn to the left is the two way street and forwards is a single one way lane.
Now i have no choice in the matter, i'm already in the car with no control over the driver. I go where they take me.
It's the two way street vs the one way street.
It's the couples vs the creeps.


Self confessed cynic; never loving, always driving. Always making sure to keep the red light in sight.
Never amber, never green, just red.
The glow reflecting endlessly as the twinkle in my eye, glazing over. Letting all of your images seep inside and unscramble but we don't let you inside. You enter through the eyes but it stops there before you can become the poison in our bloodstream heading straight towards the heart.
Keep cold and your heart will beat slower so you don't hit us as hard.
We are the old romantics who know to sit still.
We were the passengers who gave too much control than deserved.

We wait for it and it always comes. The moment of weakness that is so inevitable that it half hurts and half tickles.
As a romantic i will always be cynical.
We were the passengers shoved into the backseat because we're not even on the same level as the driver. We watch people come together and we watch them fall apart yet we still put ourselves up there next to you but now...
You are the driver and you don't want us.
You are the line between the two way and one way.

The fine line or the wrong turn.
We become the creeps and you become the couples.
We sulk with the red light trailing down our cheeks, from our eyes to the ground, vowing to push your images out with them.
Because we were once the romantics who loved you.
We were once in the passenger seat but now...
We are the drivers.

And with this i give you the reason to stop.