PostPoems Be Artistic. Be Creative. Be Inspired!

So many miles of highway to go

and with such a heavy load,

this perfect space,

my chest painted red,

it will never seem like enough.

I can’t write to the beat of this world of stones

but I let go of my voice, tap in such a small space

I can’t reach when it sounds like recovery

but there are peaks I can climb up

now that you weigh on me like holes in my pockets

I can’t take a blade to this world of stones

but we can get so lost we are found

I thought I saw a halo but the wings were clipped

and I love your gold-tipped edges more than I would if they were flawless

now these are places

I will only go with the windows down

I don’t need contact

I can get high on your echo

and the bass from the backseat

I don’t need clouds

I can run on your aftertaste

so I have locked my mouth

I never want the flavor to leave again

So many miles of highway to go

and with such a heavy load,

my chest painted red,

it will never seem like enough

With such a heavy load,

my chest painted red,

I sing if I can’t keep you no one can

This is how I know how much you mean to me:

I hate car trips

and I never want this one to end.