2 Passengers

We’re headed anywhere.

Blacktop beneath us,

reflective yellow paint lines,

sometimes chopped up,

beating a staccato rhythm

in the night.

 

Battle worn,

you and I;

weary as the dust

that clings to our skin,

still warm from the heat of day,

but cooling,

now that night has come.

 

Greyhound bus West,

but first, South.

Deep down,

we would have stayed;

we would have put up a fight,

but with the money gone

and the world closing in,

it felt better to run.

 

Always dreamed about California.

I always thought

that your smile was meant

for billboards.

That big, wide, beautiful smile

that could sell anything,

to anyone.

 

I can picture you by the ocean.

Playing in the waves

and the sunsets;

Oh, God! The sunsets!

From this tarnished, old bus;

any fantasy becomes a hope to cling to.

Any thoughts

that don’t involve losing

are worth keeping.

 

We gave up on memories.

Sold all that we were

for another chance

at a half-baked paradise,

but part of me knows

that when this bus stops,

I’m gonna lose you.

 

I see you,

all stretched out,

gazing out the window,

playing with the frayed end

of your shirt;

and some hard truth

hits my gut,

like I ate a rock.

 

I’m gonna lose you.

What a terrible feeling.

The thought of leaving you

is never on my mind long.

I keep it quiet,

because you are mine,

until you are not

and not a moment before.

 

You look up at me,

smile touching your eyes

and with the first light of dawn

visible through the bus windows,

we can kind of see where we are.

 

Nowhere,

but heading somewhere.

A beautiful place,

where the future lies.

Away from what we were,

but in many ways,

we’ll never change.

We’re just 2 passengers,

clinging to a moment.

 

HG – 2018

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