Love falls out of my hands, and into my lap.
I’m lucky. Lucky? I get in my car, and think if I could just drive:
To the tree. To the bridge, and out where the sun is making the horizon fail-safe.
If I could just be no-one I would be myself. Voices push and pull, and the sun on my hands on the steering wheel feels right.
It’s not another life, it’s the first one- getting stronger the more miles I get away from anything I’ve tried to become.
I devise a plan. Step by step, beginning tomorrow. Engineering a getaway like a smart girl.
Already there’s holes in the plan, though.
Someday I’ll get in the car and drive. Maybe. Someday. Maybe, when everything’s right and I’m taller. A little taller. When I have it all figured out.