I said, “Let’s get out of here”
because I was so tired
I thought I’d disappear
and I knew how much you loved
long car rides in the nighttime

You told me the windows
reminded you of life
with the way the world raced on by
in a foggy daze
and I thought it was strange
you failed to mention
the beauty of the sleepy orange streetlights
on the deserted speedy highways

You told you never loved anything
as much as the radio at 2am
because you knew
there were others like you listening
and you would watch
the road with such an intensity
that I found myself jealous
of those rundown empty streets
and I wondered if I was your blindspot

You told me 24-hour gas stations
were places of magic
because so many people walked in and out
and never looked back
and when I was pouring myself coffee
I heard the cashier tell you
how lucky you were to have a girl like me
and your silence was as lukewarm
to my chest as the drink was to my lips

You told me the other drivers
on the road with you were lost
because they all knew
where they were headed
and had heads full of clarity
but as I stared at my blue veins
on my pale wrist
I realized that I was the lost one
and the miles ahead and behind
us both were nothing compared
to where I’d rather be

You told me the destination
was not what mattered,
it was only how you got there,
and I thought about this
in the messy passenger seat of your car
as you said, “We can never leave