There are highways inside me.
Built by what I have learned.
Learned to love,
learned to fear,
Who I was trained to be.
Compassionate.
Scared.
As I walk through the streets of my mind,
my thoughts cause the concrete to crumble.
I start to see the grass under the roads.
Who I was meant to be.
I can see it all so clearly.
A lonely soul walking in the middle
on the yellow lines.
The illusion is so vibrant.
The walker turns as if called.
I look in to my own red, swollen eyes.
It appears I have been crying as I walked alone.
I take my hand,
and together,
we watch.
All along the roads
The pavement is turning to dust.
I can see myself dive down.
I feel the jarring impact as I land.
Our hands cry red as we rip apart the mold
we've grown to fit.
The Roads are gone.
Nature reclaims what it lost through the years.
I stand.
Help myself out of the rubble.
and we walk.
Creating our own way
