My mission has become a haze

In these droning hours—

Snaking pavement,

Grass coated medians:

Another couple hundred miles,

Another tank of diesel fuel,

Another nook and cranny town

Left unexplored by my consciousness

As the gas logo sign posts,

Bat me in the eye

Like flies

Pillars and bridges are swooping down

With on and off ramps

Leading to livelihoods

That embrace all the homes

That I defy.

Would they ever acknowledge the

Sentence to freedom, the

Wandering, quivering, blues that (I)

Want to leave behind me.

The diesel echoes in and out

Of ominous, overcast

Purple anger

And I will travel onward

And I’m ignoring the reflected

Spite spat

Upon the mournful plains.

This moving truck is full.

I’ve left nothing behind

Except for friends, family and Rimma

Who is so much on my mind.

I remember the rainy night

In her apartment’s hush

When the only light in the world

Was the bulb hanging above us.

Rimma’s foreign accent

Was so far away from home.

Rimma’s beauty was so lonely

Rimma’s life was on the roam

I see Rimma on every horizon

When my heart sits frozen in fear.

And now that I am finally on the road

I have left her behind to find her here.

So I am trying to find Rimma

And no matter what happens to me

I will still see Rimma on the horizon

And be graced by her eternity.

The post Leaving My Hometown with Nothing but a Platonic Relationship appeared first on Redefining "Psychosis".