Ride

Thu, 10/06/2016 - 23:51 -- samv99

The steering wheel's fabric feels warm against the skin of my forehead slick, sweaty. Outside the chill threatens to freeze the ruby lakes of my bloodstream, it rages a war against the heat that has consumed my body. The two combat each other, they contradict.

Breathe in, out.

My mind is a storm of hysteria and budding, blooming anxiety. A desperate, dry whimper falls from my trembling lips.

Breathe in, out.

My hands shake as I pull the vibrating engine to drive, turning up the music until it drifts in-between the hollows of my bones. I am shaking.

Breathe in, out.

I hold the wheel steady and focus on the reds, oranges of the leaving sunset and tossing grass waving it goodbye. Opening the windows, winters crisp clumsily fingers meet me, pulling me to him. Long time no see, old friend.

Breathe in, out.

The speed calms me, this is routine. Nothing can disrupt this. The wind wipes my face prompting a sting in my eyes that allows for uncontrollable tears. I don’t, won’t push them away.

Breathe in, out.

This, this, this. I laugh suddenly, quick and crazed. My fingers play with the breeze, pulling through its strands like a child’s hair.

Breath in, out.

There is a war against what I feel and what I’m supposed to feel but as my hand lays on gears, my lips shift into a careless smile and the wind, the wind is winning.

In, out.

  

 

This poem is about: 
Me

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