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Rated: E · Poetry · Personal · #1714961
My first written piece, it is about a man thinking about his life on the drive home.


Closing time, you clean up, count the drawer, and sweep the floor. Say goodbye to people you work with, it’s the end of another day. As you step out into parking lot, you look up. A cold clear night, but glare from the street lamps blots out the stars.Get in the car, and down the road, the cool night air blows across your face. As you approach the out skirts of town the street lamps dwindle, and when you look past the headlights, the darkness is like an infinte black curtain.

The air blows through the open window, and icy daggers stab at your cheeks , your headlights disappear into the dark abyss unfolding in front of you.

As you travel that well worn route, your mind starts to wander. Through the days events you go, no rhyme or reason, just a stroll through the day, then that light turns yellow and you cruise to a stop.

The air blows through the open window, and icy daggers stab at your cheeks , your headlights disappear into the dark abyss unfolding in front of you.


As you wait your turn you glance at the next car. Two people sitting, talking, just a guy, and a girl without a care in the world. They are together, you can see her eyes, you know that look, and it’s not the look you get. You know that friendly look, the one you are used to? This one is that look she saves, for the one she loves

The air blows through the open window, and icy daggers stab at your cheeks , your headlights disappear into the dark abyss unfolding in front of you.

The light turns green and you on your way. The sight still lingers in your mind. You see glimpses, images, like fragments of a whole. An aisle in a church, standing at the altar you see a woman in a white dress, the train hides both her figure and her height. The veil covers her face, who is she you wonder. The scene changes, you are in a park, there is a boy playing soccer, he looks like you twenty years ago, he has your run, your hair, even your smile. But…..those eyes are not yours….

The air blows through the open window, and icy daggers stab at your cheeks , your headlights disappear into the dark abyss unfolding in front of you.

The cold brings you out of your little daydream. Are they glimpses of the future? Your hopes and dreams? Or are just fantasies? That hole in your chest grows wider, you can fell it pulling you in. it is a vacancy in your heart, no not a vacancy but a vacuum.

The air blows through the open window, and icy daggers stab at your cheeks , your headlights disappear into the dark abyss unfolding in front of you.

And as they always do your thoughts drift back to those of the past. They say it is better to have love and lost than never to have loved at all. It’s like giving a starving man a crumb, or a thirsty man a sip. Not enough to satisfy only to make it worse.

The air blows through the open window, and icy daggers stab at your cheeks , your headlights disappear into the dark abyss unfolding in front of you.

You see a pair of headlights in the distance and it reminds you of that last relationship. You saw it approach way off in the distance. As it came closer the light was brighter, the excitement grew. And then it passed, if you blinked you might have missed it. All that left is the breeze passing by.

The air blows through the open window, and icy daggers stab at your cheeks , your headlights disappear into the dark abyss unfolding in front of you.

Your thoughts are interrupted as you hear your phone ring. You reach into your pocket to pull it out and you look at the ID. It’s your buddy, you smile, he could always cheer you up.

“Hey man” you say.

“Hey” he replies, “I have great news!”

“What’s that?”

“She said Yes!”

Then you remember, you’ve met her, he showed you the ring, you heard his plan. “That’s awesome!” you say as this cocktail of feelings flows up inside you. On one hand, you are happy for your best buddy, he has truly found her, the one. On the other another friend is now lost.

The air blows through the open window, and icy daggers stab at your cheeks , your headlights disappear into the dark abyss unfolding in front of you.

It’s like a healthy man, telling the leper “I know how you feel.” Or the rich man telling the poor, “It’ll get better”. Well meaning? Yes. Sincere? Yes. Helpful? Not Really. Another friend now can’t relate to you. No matter what he says, in a few months he will put on a tux and dance with the one he loves, and you’ll sit off to the side with the guys, waiting, wondering, when will that day come?

The air blows through the open window, and icy daggers stab at your cheeks , your headlights disappear into the dark abyss unfolding in front of you.

Your trip almost over, your day almost done you look at the sky. Just as the night must end, and the promised dawn will always come. Still you wonder and you realize……..

The air is cold, the road is dark.




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