Searching for Water

Sitting on the banks of rolling black asphalt
I close my eyes and lean back onto the long grass
Made brown and black from constant suffocation
If you've been near it enough, you'll find the highway,
at night,
is as soothing as the rolling waves of the ocean

Chevy Styleline

The sky is grey
Thick with exhaust and spent petroleum
Rain will be harsh if it comes
The sun bites through the haze
Making small entryways for the fumes to enter me
I swat at it like an irritating fly
Of course it makes no difference
I roll my window down
Exhaling deeply, I read the bumper sticker for the twenty second time
"if it's on time, it's a 'Fluke'"
It wasn't funny the first time, but it has strangely become hilarious,
in that "36-hours-awake-and-still-not-finished-working" kind of way
My engine coughs loudly for attention
I push the shift stick to neutral, and ease my foot onto the pedal
Just to let it know I haven't forgotten about her
Sirens blare behind me, but they move on past me
I exhale deeply

Tunnel Vision

Your voice reaches me across the tunnel
Robbed of echo and color
Like the men on old radios
It must be what space feels like

Guarine

The only reason I push myself so hard and live life so fast, is because every moment I am left to catch my breath, you catch up with me again.

Terra Firma

Just a few strums of the guitar, and I can already hear a lifetime of heartache and empty roads.

Old country roads

I race silently in the night
Cars slither past, eyes avoiding my gaze as we pass each other
I focus on the pale yellow line ahead
Faded and cracking
I sigh loudly, but no one is around to hear me

Smitten

It's that little cherry bounce in your voice
That silver glazing on every sigh
The extra curl on the end of your smile
The little wrinkles on each eye
And the long gazes off to what may be