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fennecampersandPoems
Driving up slowly... Park across the street. Nobody should know where we meet. Walking up slowly... Wishing I was drunk. At least that would explain my funk. Now I’m peering, Peeling off my skin. There’s no healing; It’s a game you can’t win. Now I’m driving up slowly... And making myself go home. The things I do, To let myself roam. Now I’m driving up slowly... Two hours before I’m home. All this effort... And nothing to show Writing silently... The words aren’t coming Like I planned. I pray someday that someone understands... Because I don’t. Driving alone, Driving alone. Home is not so lonely... When I’m driving up slowly. So, I’m coming home. Yes, I’m coming home.
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Jul 11, 2018
Jul 11, 2018 at 5:09 PM UTC
Driving Up Slowly
Driving up slowly... Park across the street. Nobody should know where we meet. Walking up slowly... Wishing I was drunk. At least that would explain my funk. Now I’m peering, Peeling off my skin. There’s no healing; It’s a game you can’t win. Now I’m driving up slowly... And making myself go home. The things I do, To let myself roam. Now I’m driving up slowly... Two hours before I’m home. All this effort... And nothing to show Writing silently... The words aren’t coming Like I planned. I pray someday that someone understands... Because I don’t. Driving alone, Driving alone. Home is not so lonely... When I’m driving up slowly. So, I’m coming home. Yes, I’m coming home.
Sometimes it takes a tryst to realize where you really belong
#driving#up#slowly#tryst#home#alone#lonely#depression#validation#drunk
fennecampersand
Written by
fennecampersand
25/M/Santa Clara, CA
Jul 11, 2018
Jul 11, 2018 at 5:09 PM UTC
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