At times we decide
To take turn into a direction
We know we won’t come back from
I wonder what it is
That turns the wheel
The curiosity
The thrill of a new road
We never drove on before
Perhaps even a little bit of
Self-destructiveness
Maybe sometimes we need to lie
In a bed of thorns
And broken bottles
It restarts out minds
It launders our heartstrings
It’s the dung we need to know
From the very inside
So even if this motel
Might be far apart
I turned my wheel
Knowing of the wounds and stitches
I will carry on my back
After returning home
And smiling
While imagining
Pulling out the shards
- bursts of growth can be painful