Brain Shale

This is what I do all day every day.

My thoughts are of dust
covered bridges and
cracked parkways-
hairline fractures that
rattle the mirror as
our tires roll over
them.
I'm so tired, eyes split and
squinting against the
darkness.

Such a painless vista
I behold, but feeling
so impatient it reaches
for the sky, the
moon holding it down.
Our laughter holds my
agony back, my flat
eyes sagging and the
lump growing, swelling in
my throat.
Headlights bob and
swing loosely,
casting my presence
Into the future.