My forehead is resting against the passenger seat window. My brain swells with fear. Heat rises off my skin and fogs the glass. We pass each highway light in a rhythmical pattern. It shines light on the bracelet tied around my wrist that I swear to never take off.

I ask if you think the rain will ever stop. You tell me to roll down my window and ask it.

The moon bobs in and out of sight between the trees and every time I lose it, my heart sinks. I’m tired of running from myself. I know every hiding spot, so what’s the point?

You ask me if healing will get easier and I tell you that it means nothing and everything all at once. Said you’re moving closer again because the city doesn’t feed you how it used to. Told me the nighttime is starting to frighten you again. I guess the dawn waits to show up until it thinks you’ve suffered enough. Some sticky act of mercy we abide by like anxious sinners.

I don’t hold these things with clenched fists anymore. I raise my hands because I surrender. It’s just the passing of time and I’m here for the taking. So if you need to go somewhere, please take me with you. Please drive me down the winding roads so that I can rest my mind for awhile and understand what it feels like to be less angry. Let’s start healing together again. -AMT ©️