Together Now

And then again, I find myself driving,
towards those old crossroads
while others race up behind me;
racing up to that red light.

Once I stop & think,
I look past that sign, and this,
only to find myself
wondering . . .
what lies beyond?

////////////////////////////////////////////////////

Turning right
means that I head home.

Alone, once more
with my cigarettes
and to see myself
in the mirror after a shower,

only
       to
           find
                  my
                        faults

and to find that
these colors truly don't run,
but mask themselves in what I call
self.

////////////////////////////////////////////////////

Turning left means taking a trip
down memory lane.

All my failed relationships
with girls I barely knew,
both physically and metaphorically.

All the times I cut a class,
to drink and use
and not think of myself as self,
nor in the moments
in which there
                      memories
                                      lie.

////////////////////////////////////////////////////


Going straight,
almost from the first star
until morning.

Like so many times before,
I find this self to worry,
unlike the one that lays to the left.

////////////////////////////////////////////////////


Behind me is another car,
beside me, one turns off.
Of all the endless possibilities,
I still find myself parked,
and  wondering . . .
what lays beyond that red light.