Divided Highway
Desperate for change
but driving familiar roads,
past places that hold moments lived.
Each street unravels new reels,
each streetlight focused
on a stage from the past
and each turn seems to lead me
into some kind of unreachable,
unchangeable facts of yesterday.
Mistakes pile so high behind my eyes
I can barely see beyond them,
into a sane tomorrow unhaunted
by my efforts to reconcile the errs
that still mock in hindsight,
and tint my rearview
with loathsome shame.
And I acceletate...
leaving no goodbyes,
taking all the regrets
deserting one existence for another,
forsaking times
when I had been good enough,
strong enough,
loved enough
to battle fate and circumstance
with a passion that had nothing to do
with how tomorrow looked,
but how the one day at a time ended.
But I can't drive far enough
out of my divided life
to escape shadows crying treason,
a guilty concience.
I'm scared to death of my faults,
of the rejection around each corner,
of being too late to belong,
too far away to be lovable.
My thoughts never seemed so alive,
biting at the heels of my happiness,
chasing me down highways
I can't travel all by myself
and yet,
I can't ask the forsaken to ride with me
to make a widow of either existence.
Copyright © Jean Marble | Year Posted 2009
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