When you are in a temper,
you would speed up the car.
Only this time, you drove too far.
Now I will act like it is just another Monday.
But deep inside, I am afraid of the length you went,
and for the time we have spent.
It is like you are getting farther.
While you leave me behind at the road you sped on,
down the small town I was raised in,
where it all comes falling apart,
all of you and I.
YOU ARE READING
the Journey
PoesíaQuoting the phases of persona's childhood; composed over the years in her distressed journey of emotions- compiled in this book of short poems. Welcome to 'the Journey'.
