There's something I really like
about driving at night.
There is a certain peacefulness
in the sound the tires on my Honda make
as they rub against the highway
at a steady 9 over the limit,
no traffic to hold me back.
I keep my windows partly cracked
even though my heat is on
because it's the only way I can be
warm but not too hot and
cool but not too cold.
I turn my music up as
loud as it can possibly go,
my mind swimming in the
lyrical metaphors
comparing love to water bodies
and getting lost in the waves.
I ripple down the road
as I drive past the river,
the stars twinkling across the
vast expanse of black.
Sometimes I have a destination in mind,
and other times I don't.
Sometimes I drive because I'm sad
and other times because I'm angry,
regardless I am sometimes crying, screaming,
and or heavily breathing.
I am always pondering,
I am always processing,
I am always gaining perspective,
and, by the end,
I am always at peace,
at least until that time I need to
take another twilight drive down by the Ohio.
