I can’t string together the right words to describe the feeling of black tar sands filling my lungs,
Or chinks of ice inching their way through my veins-
Maybe they’re somewhere in the relief I find Between the place my tires last touched the gravel
And where they meet the sky.

There’s something about being okay with death that’s totally not okay
But there’s something about it that makes me want to roll out the welcome mat,
Arms open where I’ve been waiting for you-
In the home that’s no longer ours,
Left in your flames I couldn’t quench.