F@#! You, Metaphorically.

Worth the Waste

Tonight, you're not here again.
I'm starting to think that maybe I've found the best replacement for crack and alcohol,
because truthfully?
I think a lot of the reason why we do it is to forget our demons.

The only thing that is with me now is the cold summer air and the hush of night.
Maybe my favorite songs are the soundtrack to this short film of mine.
The engine mixes in with the beat of the song and all that lights up our night is the flecks of stars like the gold in your eyes and the occasional lamp posts.

I'm moving in slow motion, staring up at anything my eyes can latch onto.
The names of stores and the bricks of the tunnel and maybe, just maybe, how you are no where to be found.
Skies resemble smudged paintings but I think it's the prettiest kind of tragedy.
Nothing holds me back here.
Not time or roads or boundaries or my own mind.
Nothing.

My head's half out the window and I'm grinning up at anything and everything,
because for once I do not hear anything haunting.
Sure, I will go back home and fall asleep and wake up hopelessly shaken by the ghost of people sitting at my bed, but here I can hear nothing except silence and the rush of wind.
Even my hair is floating freely around me, and I don't think I've ever smiled this much in so long.

The tunnel swallows us and I step up on my seat and poke my head out of the sun roof, wondering if this simple moment of freedom is worth the risk of falling out.
I take the risk.
My hands are higher than I could ever imagine and my God, I'm smiling.
Screaming, even.
Screaming into the wind and the tunnel and the abyss because who's here to listen to my pleas for my freedom and peace to stay?

We drive aimlessly, no destination except to lose ourselves.
We'll drive as far as it'll take and come back home because we know to be found we have to be lost.
It's a waste of gas and time and I know in the long run it's not worth it.

She told me he thought that their time was wasted,
but it made them happy. I don't see how it's a waste.
And yes, happiness often comes with a price and the occasional strings attached.
But we're happy, aren't we?

Our screams and cries into the hushed night and giggles aren't because we are tied down to what haunts us.
We are simply..
free.

It's worth the waste, in my opinion.