A deep breath and an empty road
walked to my car,
and for the first time all day,
I breathed.
Not the hurried breath between another tray of food, or the sigh that slips out without permission.
A real one.
The kind that lets your shoulders remember they can fall.
The windows rolled down. Warm air replaced the heat of the kitchen.
Somewhere in the distance, fireworks argued with the night, too far away to matter.
Another Brick in the Wall by pink Floyd.
Part one.
Part two.
Part three.
The road curved beneath yellow streetlights, empty enough that every bend belonged to me.
A possum disappeared into a storm drain like it had somewhere important to be.
I laughed.
At the next intersection, I stopped.
An empty pump.
Fifty dollars in wrinkled bills.
The nozzle clicked.
For the first time in months,
I didn't have to worry
about gas,
or tomorrow.
Blackout Days by phantogram.
The windows stayed open.
The city slowly loosened its grip.
Then came the bridge.
No headlights.
No streetlights.
No cars.
Just enough moonlight to know where the road ended, and enough darkness to know I wasn't afraid.
People talk about darkness like it's something waiting to swallow you.
This wasn't that kind.
This was the kind that asks nothing of you.
For one bridge.
For one stretch of road.
For one quiet breath.
The world stopped asking.
Then the lights returned.
One by one.
The curve.
The intersection.
A red light.
A green.
Cars passed me.
I didn't mind.
They could have tomorrow.
Tonight, it was only me,
the wind through the windows, the music,
And the long road home.
Poetry by Theo_Door91
Read 11 times
Written on 2026-07-02 at 05:58
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The road home
I thanked my manager,walked to my car,
and for the first time all day,
I breathed.
Not the hurried breath between another tray of food, or the sigh that slips out without permission.
A real one.
The kind that lets your shoulders remember they can fall.
The windows rolled down. Warm air replaced the heat of the kitchen.
Somewhere in the distance, fireworks argued with the night, too far away to matter.
Another Brick in the Wall by pink Floyd.
Part one.
Part two.
Part three.
The road curved beneath yellow streetlights, empty enough that every bend belonged to me.
A possum disappeared into a storm drain like it had somewhere important to be.
I laughed.
At the next intersection, I stopped.
An empty pump.
Fifty dollars in wrinkled bills.
The nozzle clicked.
For the first time in months,
I didn't have to worry
about gas,
or tomorrow.
Blackout Days by phantogram.
The windows stayed open.
The city slowly loosened its grip.
Then came the bridge.
No headlights.
No streetlights.
No cars.
Just enough moonlight to know where the road ended, and enough darkness to know I wasn't afraid.
People talk about darkness like it's something waiting to swallow you.
This wasn't that kind.
This was the kind that asks nothing of you.
For one bridge.
For one stretch of road.
For one quiet breath.
The world stopped asking.
Then the lights returned.
One by one.
The curve.
The intersection.
A red light.
A green.
Cars passed me.
I didn't mind.
They could have tomorrow.
Tonight, it was only me,
the wind through the windows, the music,
And the long road home.
Poetry by Theo_Door91
Read 11 times
Written on 2026-07-02 at 05:58
Save as a bookmark (requires login) Write a comment (requires login) Send as email (requires login) Print text| Texts |
by Theo_Door91Latest textsThe road homeStones The day the music died Once is enough Christmas table |
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