Stepping from the porch
‘cross the lawn
to the street
there’s an evening that’s leaving
some unevenness in me
wander these roads knowing when I head home
it’s the very last place I want to go
take these keys and drive this car
as far from myself as can be
make this town a past tense
and this night a memory
or something less
so when I rest
I’m not tossing and turning this room
trying to find traces of you
some lingering scent on my jacket
or some words you didn’t know how to say
forever suppressing expression
driving any emotion away
I’d rather sleep on these streets
behind the wheel in the summer heat
than attempt to remember a face
too afraid to lay
and be at peace
too afraid to feel
anything
No comments:
Post a Comment