Take your bag, get in the car, get in the car. And drive it. Somewhere quiet. Where you can sit at the wheel for a real short minute, smoking a cigarette. Cause it’s time for it to leave you and you know it will go. It’s long gone tucked under brush and scrub, overland, roadless. Slipping through fences. I know it to see it, I see it all the time.
You felt small and free like a kid, cause now it don’t care what you did. Or what you might do. You felt light, and somehow see through…
It’s not love, it’s not cause of love. It’s not a blessing or a curse, I don’t know what it is. But I know it to see it, and I know it when I don’t see it. And I don’t see it in you.

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