:on being happy

the position of the rear view mirror sits right at my sight.
so my glance repeats and i drive, on
a summer day with leather seats.
and all i’m left to think
are all the cars
passing me by.

i make the farthest of drives to places i’ve already been.
memories of colorless dreams. the same scenes.

i watch myself walk out of all the doors.
motioning hello.
with an employable kindness, tanned knees.
wearing grey and soft pinks.
while the me i’ve never known
sticks to the seats.
a hiccup defeat.


asking over and over again,
“how do i get
to me?”


Leave a Reply

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in:

WordPress.com Logo

You are commenting using your WordPress.com account. Log Out / Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out / Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out / Change )

Google+ photo

You are commenting using your Google+ account. Log Out / Change )

Connecting to %s