She's driving north
on I-95,
her thoughts blurry
as the landscape she fights to ignore -
she wears no makeup
but paints herself a darker shade of night
every quarter of a mile.
Her GPS says turn left,
her mind says turn right.
She is scared to be with me,
scared to be without me.
She is everywhere
and anywhere other than here,
now.
The air becomes thinner,
she struggles to breath,
she struggles to keep struggling -
she thinks love is a dog from hell
and indifference is easy,
to love me she must first love herself.
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