Each day I sit: numb hands, numb feet
Waiting for the autopilot to take my space
So I can fall asleep in the passenger seat
And wake up in a different place
Or even drift right past tomorrow
If I'm his hostage, he's my plague
Because the bumpy road he tolerates
Always rocks away my aches
My body is held by strings
And my eyes no longer blink
So I stay in the passenger seat
And keep choosing not to think
Jan 30, 2023
Jan 30, 2023 at 5:00 PM UTC
Each day I sit: numb hands, numb feet
Waiting for the autopilot to take my space
So I can fall asleep in the passenger seat
And wake up in a different place
Or even drift right past tomorrow
If I'm his hostage, he's my plague
Because the bumpy road he tolerates
Always rocks away my aches
My body is held by strings
And my eyes no longer blink
So I stay in the passenger seat
And keep choosing not to think
Request permission to use this poem