BLACKOUT YELLOW (Lambos & Lost Time)

Black paint, yellow dreams—speed bleeds into my seams

Keys bite, night drinks—who am I between the blinks?

I taste last call on the rim of the moon, lime wedge of a sliver sky

Tongue heavy with confessions I forgot to try

Tach needle scribbles graffiti on midnight’s spine

Lambo growls like a rumor that crossed the line

Phone lights up: “You good?”—three ghosts, same name

Barstool halo tilts—I baptize my shame

Memory like a zipper with a missing tooth

Snapshots flicker—me, a dare, and a peeled-back roof

I hear the asphalt pray in a gravel voice

Sirens rehearse for a future choice

Skin hums—engine room under my ribs

God, don’t let my heartbeat tell fibs

Blackout—my name signed in fog on the glass

Yellow—like sin in a Sunday sash

I’m racing my shadow with the headlights low

Every yes I swallowed turns to no

Blackout—time spills like a drink on chrome

Yellow—caution wrapped around home

If I make it to morning, let me own the bruise

I don’t wanna lose and not know what I lose

Shot glass calendar—last week was four

Tonight is a mirror nailed to the floor

Pedal whispers lies I want to believe

“Just one more mile, then you can grieve”

Billboard saints blink—eyes full of static

Lane lines braid into something cinematic

Hands at ten and two, but my soul’s at three

Drifting through a version I don’t wanna be

Rearview shows a face I almost know

Mouth says “slow,” wrists say “go”

Airbag rosary I hope I never kiss

Mercy in the margin of the abyss

Blackout—my name signed in fog on the glass

Yellow—like sin in a Sunday sash

I’m racing my shadow with the headlights low

Every yes I swallowed turns to no

Blackout—time spills like a drink on chrome

Yellow—caution wrapped around home

If I make it to morning, let me own the bruise

I don’t wanna lose and not know what I lose

I hear my mother’s voice in the downshift clatter:

“Baby, trophies don’t matter if the pieces scatter.”

A text unsent—“I miss who I was”—

Thumb hovers like a drone above a cause

Streetlight crown on a stumbling king

Curbside choir that can’t quite sing

Heart like a pit stop—four tires of doubt

Pit crew angels yelling “Box! Box out!”

Who turned the night into a missing file?

Who signed my smile with a counterfeit mile?

If grace has a gear, let me find its teeth—

Let me be the driver and the boy beneath

Blackout—my name signed in fog on the glass

Yellow—like sin in a Sunday sash

I’m racing my shadow with the headlights low

Every yes I swallowed turns to no

Blackout—time spills like a drink on chrome

Yellow—caution wrapped around home

If I make it to morning, let me own the bruise

I don’t wanna lose and not know what I lose

Ignition off—silence draws the seam

I count the failures I still get to redeem

Parked on a prayer, I whisper to the night:

“Let tomorrow be a first lap done right.”