melancholia, loneliness weigh down the insides of buses streaming out the cold air vents swirling seeping into seats
drifting in and out of sleep passing over state lines anonymously in and out like a whisper nobody hears, each person immersed in their own heaviness, traveling for a job they're stuck to or a girlfriend they've pledged to
songs you love on repeat clinging onto anything that reminds you of home while you're on the road
blinking as you pass another overpass, another truck, another rest stop everything gray everything the same running like an ant on an anthill trapped in one world not even knowing the scale of the rest
.
discovered among old notes, written who knows how long ago, still accurate