I take the turnpike in a blur of frenzied
yellowing lights-
the lines beneath me are not white.
I drive on wrecked pavement,
cement that I always thought could be
filled by the reflection of the
stars.
Will my breath be in disrepair?
For how can I exhaust another sunrise
when there is heaviness still
existing 'tween these cushions.
Only love,
only love can save us.
There is no need for this to be a rush.
* written December 22, 2012 at 2:06 pm
* inspired by Trading Yesterday's song "The Beauty & The Tragedy"
