The Distraction.
Pressing further down the road.
Pressing harder on the petal.
Racing my way-
To the thought of you.
At the end of this road,
I see me coming home.
Back to you.
Gripping the steering wheel,
Bracing for harsh turns,
Listening to the wind-
Blow over the metal of the car.
Your face on the windshield,
Blurring my vision.
Your voice calling me,
Taking my sight.
Off a gaurd rail I drive,
Tumbling down to a condemning abyss.
Dying to the thought of you,
Damned by the thought of you.
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divinity11
"There are dreamers and there are realists in this world. You'd think the dreamers would find the dreamers and the realists would find the realists, but more often than not the opposite is true. You see, the dreamers need the realists to keep them from soaring too close to the sun. And the realists, well without the dreamers, they might not ever get off the ground."
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