The Road Pulls Me Under

Tarmac like an ocean, it's insubstantial

like my wallet, and my tank.

If I were a ship I'd sink

into that long deep drink,

the road pulls me under.

With thunder I awake--

twin eyes face me, race towards me

and I forget how to move.

--there is nothing smaller than a thought

at the end, a tiny wish that sought

to rewrite the life I had--

The life I have.

The twin lights scream at me

(be free from this)

and I avoid a kiss from a trailer hitch.

Breath.

Pause.

Blink, once.

I'll get some rest--

after my brain boils down.