Trembling hand shoves the key into ignition
Desperate to escape this self-induced affliction
Deafening engine roars to life
As my conscience pushes in further its knifeGrip the wheel with all my might
Dripping tears start to blur my sight
Turn the radio as loud as it goes
Anything to drown out my relentless woesDon't bother to check my speed
Devouring each mile with growing greed
The moment I let myself slow
My demons won't hesitate to showConvinced I can drive away from all the pain
Secretly I know my efforts are in vain
But this doubt doesn't matter
As long as I can switch off its insistent chatterWith tempting whispers, my worries won't stop
Try to resist the urge to eavesdrop
Praying for no signs of tire deflation
That'll ruin my chances at escaping this toxic sensationWon't stop till the last drop of gasoline
The chaotic voices in my head continue to sing
Unsure of direction as I zoom
Either way will lead to my impending doomRefuse to lift my foot from the pedal
Or allow my pulsating brain to settle
If I hesitate and start to slow
All my pain and hurt will release and flow
YOU ARE READING
Tacenda
Puisitacenda (n.) things better left unsaid; matters to be passed over in silence