You'll Never Get Another Ride to Work
And I love that for me.
I'm tired of driving in straight lines—
back and forth,
same roads,
same silences.
Making Ls across the city,
like I'm folding myself into corners
he’ll never bother to look into.
Gassing up
when I’m running on fumes,
no thank yous,
no offers—
just a quiet expectation
that I’ll keep showing up.
Every mile is a question I already know the answer to.
He gets in.
He gets out.
I stay moving,
circling a life
that never circles back to me.
Never letting go,
just tightening.
Every stoplight,
a chance to scream.
Every green light,
a swallowed one.
I’m tired of holding the wheel
for a passenger
who forgot how to feel.
Ready to explode,
not because I hate him—
but because I forgot
what it feels like
to go somewhere
for myself.
About the Creator
Lolly Vieira
Welcome to my writing page where I make sense of all the facets of myself.
I'm an artist of many mediums and strive to know and do better every day.
https://linktr.ee/lollyslittlelovelies
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Comments (1)
As a fellow enjoyer your of car driven poetry, I really loved the route you took with this one.