the miles between point a
   and b are too many
but as always, the race is on

...and oh, yes
  i am in a race
of my own creation

brain calculates and recalculates
eyes darting
vehicles
    sunlight
road
    mirror
(is that an officer of the law?)

i practice the smoothest curves
   fluid motions
but at the same time
      sweet sassy maggy
follow the rules

don't forget the coffee for the love of god
    make it to the one gas station by 7
for fuck's sake, get around the blue car
   the black car
the raggedy old truck
        before the exit or you know
you. are. screwed. for. miles.

for christ's sake, use all your goddamn skill
   to get a around a stupid slow truck
farm equipment
      or a semi
before thou shall not pass
  or you know your rage will be uncontrollable

things are going well
   you feel confident...you will be on time
you are flying and no one can touch you
   your driving is flawless
       that crazy sun is shining
          and the bass is vibrating your bones

and then t i m e    s   l   o   w  s
    as William H. Macy, you see it
it's that fucking Kia Sportage

adrenaline shoots into my veins
  muscles tense
and i slam into manual
4....3
     take that!
       woman cruising like you're on a lazy sunday drive
          smoking a cigarette like it's 1950.
        
don't you know that i'm in a race,
     and you are my nemesis?

The shoot out is over
guns layed down
one staked out his home
the other left town
a long walk ahead
but a deep hole behind
climbed up from the bottom
in just enough time
for the sand storm is coming
and the pistol-smoke is still fresh
he's leaving undercover
sand soon to cover his steps

Thinking back on the days gone by, when we were together
Intoxicated, young, in the face of stormy weather
So little we will notice
All the troubles that we miss
So carefree, together we grow
Not a care in the world, no...

Without warning, the feeling of having to say goodbye
The fine leaves of cold December started to die
Slight bend of numbers flood through our time
One even reckon on disclosing it was a crime
Quiet, like a calm storm
We slow down, left trails so warm

And blissful days are recovered
You speak for certain, that my flame's not like the others
Why do I sense the other end instead?
Fancy hearing anew, nevertheless

You have altered entirely, fresh you to boast
Never knew today would bleed the most
Convinced that change is what you ever need
Along with your love that mislead

The past is the past for a reason
Perhaps, I should have stayed frozen
Should have just let all the cards unfold
As it may be, nothing is to behold
Cause the past is the past for a reason
Shouldn't look back, learned a lesson

From a land far away in a long lost time,
So far in the past that no one can find,
Deep in the forests of ash and of oak
Lived an old man that the elders had spoke.

Ageless this man, though ancient he was,
Told stories of the time that once was;
Stories of love, stories of war,
Stories of greed and so much more.

He would tell his old tales to young and to old
Every night by firelight whether t'was hot t'was or cold.
To those who would come he would delight
With lore of lives past or lore from last night.

But of what he did tell where a few gems,
Chronicles of a man whose life had once been.
This man in the stories in which he did speak
Lived in the hearts of both strong and of weak.

So now as I relay these timeless old tales,
Imagine a time when dragons did sail.
An age of brave knights, of kings and of queens,
Of magical realms and things left unseen.

When warriors fought valiantly with weapons of steel,
And peasants to royalty would bow and would kneel
Enter this lost medieval land
Buried beneath time’s own sand…

And sit a spell, let me tell this story that I know so well…

i.
I never cry.
But this night, with a bottle of red wine,
and a cheesy, romantic movie,
I just couldn't hold back
When I found out about HER
existence.

ii.
I called you, over and over,
and still patterns are repeating
You should have just cut me off,
You should have just told me you were done
Rather then listening to me bare my heart
Through the tears and the slurs,
I was sitting on the carpet in the corner,
Waiting to be found by you

iii.
The next morning, I apologized
Profusely, for not being what you wanted
Or needed anymore,
You told me, I shouldn't be sorry,
I should just
Move
On
Move
Along
you said

iv.
I'm glad it was so easy for you,
I'm glad you're already in love,
Swooning and infatuated
Like a lover still in high school,
And she looks like America's Sweetheart
She looks innocent, perfect,
Pure, and her pictures mock me
Not even your type,
and yet, here we are,
Here you are

v.
There comes a time where I have to
Come to terms,
Convince myself that sleeping alone is fine,
After years of sleeping beside you.
Convince myself that it is FINE
that she is now occupying my space,
on the right side of the bed.
That my letters have been burned,
the picture frames taken down.
There comes a time where I have to
Come to terms,
Make a choice,
To be okay.

If we could
Slow down the clocks,
Maybe then
I wouldn't have
Motion sickness

the very first time I went to a phycologist
my mother had already spoken to her
and given her "the whole story"
so that when i went in to speak to her
she thought she already knew everything

so i think half the problem was that
i didn't get a chance to get comfortable
with this random lady
and then come out with my problems
when i felt it best
i was forced into talking about them
right away

also i think where she had talked to my mother first
she had developed a bias
so she was on my mother's side
and thought her words were law

because when i went in and sat down
she told me i was being a selfish little girl
and that i needed to stop doing these things
because my parents didn't deserve
to have to deal with it

she said i probably had no friends
and made my list all of the friends i did have

she said i have to imagine being in my parents shoes
and seeing how this would effect them
but all i could think was that she didn't know
what my parents were actually like
and she had no business standing up for them

she couldn't imagine the nights i'd spent
crying on the fucking floor
with my father standing over me yelling
that i was being a stupid child

or the nights they would lock me out of the house
and i'd be stuck sitting on the doorstep
until my little brother would come down
and sneak me in

and so i sat in her red office
on her red fucking couch
and cried for an hour
while she basically told me off

and then my parents came in and joined me
and the lady said that things were going great
and i should come back the week after
she also gave me some homework
i was supposed to think about my future
and write down where i wanted to be
in ten years

also, she said that i wasn't allowed
to talk about anything she said with anyone
for at least two days
so i would have time to let it sink in

as soon as i left there i went to my boyfriend (at the time) 's
house and told him everything
then i took the fucking sheet with the homework on it and wrote

"in ten years i want to be fucking dead"

it felt like she didn't even care about my problems
like all that mattered to her was the money
she was going to make having me sit in that chair
for an hour a week

it felt like she was trying to cram me into this mould
that she and my mother had created for me
that didn't even consider my own feelings and plans

i felt ignored, disrespected, alone, and pathetic

if the therapist wouldn't even try to help me
what hope did i even have

___________________­_

someone please tell me this isn't how therapy always works
cause god i know i need it, but i've kind of been scared off of it

I can feel the parasites crawling from behind my eyes.

Time to take a shower again.