I hid it all. My feelings, my mind, my thoughts, my memories. My troubles and things I forget: I hid it all in the trunk of my car and locked it and buried the key and I’m going for broke. My pockets are empty and soon enough my lungs will be too. I’m all or nothing. And if I don’t make it I’m not going to bother coming back. I’m burning up my rear view mirrors and as soon as I see it, it’s gone. God I hope you know where I’m heading. I need someone to find me. 

I don’t think you meant for this to happen. But then again who could foresee what’s in my own head? Don’t be sorry. It’s all for the best and I’d do it again. I’d do it every day for the rest of my life and I’d come back after I’m gone just to watch. I’ve watched it a million times and I keep expecting something to change. For the light to be green this time. A different woman in the hall, a different rain on the windshield. I beg for a different song to play but it’s always the same. 

I’m told to write what I know. If I did that I’d have a blank page and a whole lot of words. I’m not too sure any of this means a thing. To you, to me. Anyone. And I keep writing about where I’ve been and who I’m with. Who I’ve loved and who I’ve lost. Those who left me with nothing and gave me everything. And I keep spitting out metaphors for a place I’ve never been and I’ll never be. I hope when its on paper its out of my head. 

Isn’t it amazing how the thing keeping me alive is the one thing that could kill me?