Highway

when you’re driving home alone 

on a sunday at five, 

the sun setting in the west, 

its golden rays dancing along to 

the throwback song on the radio, 

life seems to simply 

stop. 

and when it starts again,

whispering into your ear

through the open window, 

listen. 

the wind has words,

and those words dig deep,

deep into the chinks of your heart and soul,

beginning to plaster the age-old wounds 

that you were too scared to

truly address.

on an empty highway,

it doesn’t matter how many times you’ve been hurt

by the same people, 

cried over your own damn insecurities, 

or wished you were 

just a little

bit 

better. 

on an empty highway, 

it’s just you and and the stretch of asphalt ahead,

leading to better places, 

to forgiveness, to growth.

to fierce joy, ruthless love, and goodness in its purest form. 

so find that good:

whether it’s finding a home in the Adirondack mountains

with the family you get to choose,

getting lost in a drum beat that pounds

in time with your heart, 

or dancing until you can’t feel your feet anymore.

because when you’re driving home alone

on a sunday at five, 

using your past as a roadmap 

to guide you towards a better future

and inspire you to always strive for a better future

is the only way there is to go.