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Rated: E · Poetry · Dark · #2227021
a brief poem about returning home...
Black as the Highway

Black as the highway feeding me.
The distance has given me grace.
I never thought I was no one to you.
Now I can’t picture your face.
Not without seeing this place.

Daily dragged through imagery.
Thoughts not even mine.
Tarred and smeared with fake concern.
What was the name of my crime?
I wear the same skin all the time.

My mere existence is deliberate.
I step with one foot or the other.
My eyes dark brown and cast to the side.
One reason, for love of my mother.
And the other, no further.

Black as the highway behind me.
I speed at a steadier pace.
Eyes looking in all directions.
I can’t even picture my face.
Not without seeing this place.
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