Drive

Most days I put it in the backseat
buckle up, push start, drive please
reckless, dont eat, no sleep
not stopping for break, sorry
I dont have time to pull up. Busy
time is money, and money is deep
cut throat and chase goats
leave out for work, no oats
mornings used to be all about peace
serenity, other big words that mean
something other than surface crazy
something meaningful, some kind of beauty
these days i just put it in the backseat
buckle up, push start, drive please
did i lose myself somewhere, map me
did i lose myself somewhere, tell me
i want to return to the old me
when writing, drawing, music, was me
before anger, resentment, jealousy.
days when i am homesick
i dont speak
days when i am present
i dont speak
i hesitate to share deep
memories of ones who betrayed, lost me
im not going back to no sleep
asleep while others stab me
growing up is pain, and pain has stained me
its good in a sense, armed for reality
I dont have time to pull up. Busy.
Nostalgia aside. Drive please.

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