shipment

the distant hum

of the highway lullaby is

the song that sings in the

back of my brain,

the tune that plays

behind my dreams.

passing trucks lull me to sleep

like they always have,

from some not so distant road

sometimes blocked by soundproof walls.

this is my natural habitat.

i have noise in my head and

motor oil in my nails,

pollution in my lungs

and city skylines on my skin.

i know too much

yet nothing at all,

and the times when the world makes sense

seem arbitrary.

but i can take it on,

i’m made from tougher stuff

than you can see -

and my skin is thick with scars.

the passing trucks

carry fear away

into the distant night,

and i exhale.

leaving utah

i look at the hell

and watch the tears,

i hold your hand and stroke your hair

as any sister deserves.

these are the times that

try our souls

and let us pull out

who we know we should be.

there were wrongs,

there were rights

and watching it all collapse in rubble

feels like autumn news.

things fall apart,

but we scar and grow stronger

and sit here and wonder

when things will change.

and you find her

exactly when you need her -

she is strong and

she is angry,

she will take you

where you need to go.

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