Hurtling along doing seventy-five just finding some distance from her cruel goodbye's, cell phone lies silently screaming no hope seat belt left unlocked, I'm bound by her lies. No destination, no city could shelter, my soul gravely wounded, and so I move on, while sunset brings darkness now miming my feelings, of nothing worth chasing except the cold dawn. Somebody stop me, I'm out of control, tempted by bridges, cool water's below, one sad, quick twist of my steering and then, I will be free of remembering when. Somebody help me, I'm driven with pain, bent on a death wish, no exit in sight, where are the cop car's bright lights in my mirror, Nothing but semi's I pass on my right. Roaring through deserts burnt dry like my heart, El Paso... Phoenix, my dreams up in flames soon there'll be borders with gates I will crash, hope there's a guard who can hit where he aims. Suddenly there's a red flash on my left, a car so familiar, draws up next to me, with a sign on the window in big words it reads, "I'm sorry, I love you, please come back." it pleads. She must have ran out when I fled in my car, and followed me all night, unseen in my dash, I slow down, pull over, then find her embrace, where instead of hard metal, two warm bodies crash. Long kisses, starlit in the cool desert balm, words whispered of comfort, both hearts now restored, then home in our convoy, two cars filled with joy, driving sanely again to a love re-explored.
© 2009 Matthew Frederick Blowers III