07.01.22
9:00
the factory smoke against the orange glow below it created a fiery thundercloud, a sinister sight along the edge of the highway. i thought that maybe this was the sign that the world would end soon, that we would choke to death from our own selfish monstrosities, but the horizon stretched onward still. and while his soft snores filled the silence, i fought the urge to close my eyes to its rhythm. we were hours from the warmth of our bed, from the bitter cold of the winter's dawn, from the familiar scent of home. the exhaustion had settled in much earlier, when the sun was at its peak, when it was unbeknownst to us that we were miles from our destination. my hands itched at the wheel, wanting to be in the comforts we had built for ourselves when it had seemed like the night would not end. but as he startled himself awake to the hum of traffic & the man-made storm was behind us, i let go of the breath stuck between my ribs. the worst was over. we were going home.
YOU ARE READING
words don't come that easy.
PoetryI've tried. but i've always failed to contain these thousand words in a few sentences, maybe im bad at expressing macro feelings in the few words that I'm limited to. you might think you know me enough because it's been a long time since i first wav...
