I Lose Myself On The Highway, But I Always Find You


I like to drive on 94,
east, west, it doesn’t even matter,
but I like to drive on 94.
Out of all the freeways in the world I have
sped on, 94 carries my path of destruction along it.

I like to drive on 94
late at night, when it’s clear, when no one else is one the road.
I want to drive at eighty miles an hour,
just to see if someone will noticed that I’ve curved
around the corners thirty miles over the speed limit.
I want to feel the car hydroplane through a downpour,
just to see if I will survive,
because god knows I’ve encountered death so many times.

I like to drive on 94
when I crave inspiration early in the morning around one am.
It’s the only time I’ve felt my heart patter rapidly
as Siri takes notes while I’m driving,
listening to the shit I’ve thought was great to write about
because all of my best lines comes from the times I am driving
on 94.

I like to drive on 94
because I like to relive all of the times
I’ve cried on 94, laughed on 94, and sang on 94.
I want to relive the times that 94 has taken me to other cities
other relationships
other friendships
I want to relive the times that 94 has
ended relationships
ended friendships
and began new chapters in this
unending climax of the novel I can’t seem to escape.

I like to drive on 94
because I like to be reminded of the people I know
at every exit.
I breathe in their memories each time I pass their exit,
with the windows down, and I can feel the ghosts of our pasts
breeze through my hair.
Every exit reminds me of someone.

I like to drive 94
because it reminds me of you
and I only like to reminisce the best parts of you
when my hands are behind the wheel.