Reconcilliation.
Updated on January 10, 2010
Hurtling along
doing seventy-five
finding some distance
from her cruel goodbye's,
cell phone lies silently
screaming, No hope;
seat belt unbuckled,
I'm bound by her lies.
No destination,
what 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's the police
flashing 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.
I guess she 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,
with whispers of comfort,
both hearts now restored,
then home in our convoy,
two cars filled with joy,
driving sanely again
to a love re-explored
©-MFB III