I am still in motion,
The cogs nestled deep within my lungs still turn.
Despite the lack of air,
I find my breathing,
Remains steady like before,
Steady like the motor cars,
Steady - though my tank is near empty.

I keep driving,
Waiting to crash into you,
So are hearts may fuse together,
And our lips,
May finally meet.

I keep driving,
Searching for a sign,
Following the lamplight,
And cats eyes.
My fingers clenched,
With naive anticipation.

I keep driving,
Trying to take control,
from the backseat,

"Are we there yet?"

I scream, like a child, immature.

But there is no response,
I've been given the silent treatment,
For we've already reached,
our dead end.