Nighttime cloud setting itself down
Landmarks through a choppy windshield
Creviced street, creviced heart.
I sit and stare and wait, for a signal, a sign,
Something so I know you're there, but I know
It's closing time.
Headlights off, Matchbox 20 on,
Head spinning, hands shaking
Dark house, full of memories.
********
song -- "Hang," Matchbox 20
YOU ARE READING
My View from the Mount
PoetryA really close friend (she's the older sister I never had) once told me that I don't need to be established to consider myself a writer. So here I am. I'm a writer, but I'm not a professional. I'm just a girl with a pen who speaks through a notebook...
