I find you in a room of a hundred walls where you can’t find yourself. You presume you too can find me, but I can’t feel it. I move my feet towards you and scream:
“I EXIST. YOU EXIST. I EXIST. YOU EXIST.” But you don’t seem to slightly hear me. Your eyes still pitch black, darker than the night but glittering and shimmering brighter than a million constellations. Does that indicate a near burnout? Or are you still in the process of combustion? Maybe you’ve exploded many light years ago but the aftermath is still demonstrating in your eyes fierier than ever.

“Insignificant.” You mumble.
“I exist, you exist.” I weep.
“I exist, you exist. But do exits exist?” you smirk, and I no longer want to exist.

One day, you
decided I would
speak no more.
So I sat as
you sawed my tongue
and sewed my lips,
"For proper measure," you said.
You smiled at your finished work.
I couldn't.
You see,
My lips were sewed
together, too tight
Like the pen
I held,
hidden in my hand.

You won't find an exit
Without shaking hands with all of your demons
So stop knoking on the open doors.
Clock arrows spin like helicopter blades
So hurry up, take a shovel and start digging
Deeper inside you.
Heavens got their own problems,
Too many souls to judge and imprison in hell,
So stop asking them why you got in this mess
And ask a mirror.

Speeding my way down the road,
I notice a car in front of me;
It slows.
Stuck behind while I'd like to fly by,
In this moment I seem to realize,
I must stop and live to be alive.

Still stuck behind this car and the exit,
More poetic than realistic.
Behind a 1990s Chevy Cavalier.
My least favorite car.
I hate it dear.
I see the bumper sticker that reads "life".
Was this chance?
Or was it fate?
Do I get off?
Or is that a mistake?
A million choices to be made,
Although one life is to be saved.
Do I keep driving,
Or do get off?
For this I must give a lot of thought.

A few years ago
I fell in love
Racing 60 mph down a 45 zone
Clutching the seat and the door
Of a 98 nissan sentra
Hoping to get the hell out of that car
Because i couldn't stand him anymore
His reckless turned me on though
In a way that opening that car door
Seemed like an exit strategy
I didn't need to take after all
The darkness that encased the car around us
Seemed like the perfect mood setting
For the thrill we both wanted
And for me what i needed
Love didn't understand that
My fear for speed
Resembled my fear for life
Life always seemed to flash by to fast
Like it always had some place to be
And i wanted to remain still
I wanted to take a picture
Because i knew it would last longer
Instead of it always changing
And rearranging itself
Love drove me through the streets
many countless nights
Expanding my perspective
Reversing my sense of direction
A feeling of protection
That i didn't have before
Love gave me reasons
To speed through life
To not be scared
To every once in a while
Let go of the handle
That i strictly held onto
Love became my life
And i thank god
Each and every day
That i didn't take
That exit strategy
That i sped away into the night
And lived an actual life.

The solo road takes hold. I don't know where it goes, but where it goes I go.
A midnight’s drive under a sky full of clouds, blocking the moonlight.
Only the glimpse of a shimmering star guides my way, but to what I do not know.
A night of indifference, just going where this winding road takes me, but
I can barely see that shining star through clouds of hesitation.
The road is a one lane highway to a destination unknown
the fog is so dense it is like a layer of blankets used to hide the fears of a child in the dark.
At this point I wonder if it can hide my fears as well.
Do I even want to hide from these fears at all or should I stand up to the inevitable?
My engine’s sputtering, stalling, my car’s running out of gas and I feel like I just might crash.
I put my foot to the gas and hope that I wont fly through the glass and end up with my car smashed, because this car is my only way off this **** road in the first place.
I see no headlights coming my way even though I pray that one day I will see a light at the end of this godforsaken road but the day isn't today.
Some days I pray that I will lay on the road face down
with a trail of my essence turning the road red with release
but other days I carry on like it was my job to mindlessly keep both of my hands on the steering wheel and hope that at the end of this road, there’s an exit sign,
and that all I need’s a little more time.
Because night after night, my hands grip the wheel so hard my knuckles turn white as the fog that clouds my vision day after day.
My sighs echo down this ever growing street, every twist and turn feels like another reason
to unbuckle my seatbelt and open the door because
I’m going 85 in a 50 and I can’t even see my own headlights on the road
my vision is blurred and my mind is as foggy as the road I drive on.
Every now and again I wonder what the point is
I can barely remember the day I started driving, it was so long ago
and I pray for the day when I can wash this fog away in rain,
that I’ll find an exit and take it.

Must go. Cannot explain.
The sadness is on the table.
I left you as much as half
of everything I own.
Maybe more.
Spend it how you like.
I know you will anyway.
This is no joke.
The marriage painting is fixed.
The key is under
your lover's pillow.
Tell the cat
Vive La France for me.