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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