White lined paper
coated in ink and sweat from my palms-
shaking anxiously as my hand floats in the passenger seat,
I close my eyes and pretend I’m holding yours.
They keep telling me to focus my eyes on the road,
but little do they know, you’re really the one behind the wheel.

Before today,
I spent nights looking at the stars,
and the moon,
knowing that anywhere you were,
you were also looking at the same sky I was.
day after day knowing
that no matter where the stars were in the sky
you saw them too.
No matter where the sun sat,
you were looking too.
Here we are,
almost three months along
and I look at the sky
and all its stars
and regret it all.
Because no matter where you are,
weather you be sober,
or dazed and confused,
strung out,
or stressed out,
behind the windsheild of your jeep
you see the same thing I do
but with through different eyes.