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Drive
Another night screaming in my car, without any place to go again and just about to lose my job because I don’t look the part. I can’t even breathe anymore, I noticed as soon as tears tapped my elbow-pit leaning on the steering wheel. Breathe, like the wind blowing over a field of wheat, breathe.
I’m ok. Just turn on the car and get out of here. But getting out of ‘here’ requires me going ‘there’, wherever the hell that is.
So I just drive.
