110 MPH

speeding.
twisting.
the bright city lights -
beckoning,
calling:
my redemption.

one headlight: dim;
the other: glowing
with the notion
that I must be
Where I Belong.

The FlAsHiNg
red & blues
are following me,
yet are seeming to have
no affect
on my clear-cut sense
of direction.

my GPS
has been thrown
out the window.
I know where I'm going.

my music: BLASTING.
my hair: blowing -
blowing in the wind,
despite the shut windows.

my heart: throbbing.
my head: pounding -
yet I can't help it;
I'm feeling
so alive:
floating on an
impenetrable
cloud of freedom.

and then I'm crashing into a wall.


~J.V.Harker~
~21 January 2009~