We're heading West
Rolling on the gravel as the sunset is casting colors off of the Conifer trees.
Deep Amethyst mixed with Cotton Candy
Lighting up the air blowing through my thick, Mahogany locks
Reflecting from the Octagon sign up ahead 500 ft
Rusting around the edges
With bold, white letters fading into one another like your words imprinted on my soul
A stop sign in the thick brush of an overgrown ditch along a country road.
It tells me all that I need to say to you
'Stop, take me back'
But I never say a word.
We're driving along Interstate 80 in red paint coated Uhaul van
It's maybe a 2018 and along the side it reads 'Local Pick-up Only'.
Little did they know it would be dropped off an entire state away.
It's packed to the brim with our belongings, as much as we didn't need to leave behind
And what's behind us are consequences and shame.
A newly paid rental place and an easy commute.
Clarity and peace
The Independence day family explosions
Green Lakes State Park
Everything is behind us, faded so small into the rearview mirror that you couldn't even spot it with a microscope.
I'm in the mighty grasp of Doomsday, once again
©heffmomma
M