Highway Fog
Your iris perceives when it opens a vanilla sky with high beams of sun, but the moon shines
Where did this mist seem to arise from, it clouds and disruptsβit judges and stands on itβs toes
Very tips, rumbles of the engine brings you once more back to stepping on the marshmallow of burn
Burning crossfire between yourself and what might be a pedal to keep your progression
In haste you press foot deeper into the burn and feel the scorch of the nails at your ankles curdles
Quick glimpse proves of no campfire, this fire is of another kind
Nothing more than what a slap back to reality can ingest to hope
So, do as unto thy self and hope for best says I
Now within this thick onion of fog you travel, where does the solace breed
Eyes struggle to see more than what lays before it, this mist is the sweat of those trying to work their way out of where a River of sticks is what they use for replenishment
Never-ending, always gasping and grasping for help, yet canβt utter word to be understood for such
Now why do I even acknowledge the throttle
The most guilty warning, and it hurts as much as sense it could make to you
You think these thoughts, they manifest to you, in this thick fog
Readjust, only within thought can one say madness begins to break, but can you fight it
Out the corner of the very same eye are sirens, not complacent, opposite side are the gone begging you to stop
Fog is as itβs thickest
By God, this fog that comes with the morning at high night
You still travel but now, you travel appeased completed to what has enveloped your fears
Driving is depleted, now letβs only hope it clears
But not for you, nor anything in the path will it
This highway only rises taller as the thick red of blood stacks against you
Are you even alive, must be with how tightly you grip the steering wheel
Another exit passed yet dΓ©jΓ vu kicks in
You have been here before
You seem think
Maybe just so, yet, this highway fog always gets the best of you
Constructed of maniacal science for certain many years ago
So you get to thinking, yeah I have been driving all this time
Despite all my benigns, at the very least I am aliveβon time
But then you think, βWhere am I actually going to?β
You been driving for days without rest, and you recognize this day
To completion
You try the breaks but they donβt exist, you are stepping frivolous to empty space
As a matter of fact this whole truck is missing much
Dampened brows burn into eyesight looking down at hands that bleed from the roots of fingernails
Peeling back almost of on their own accord, the edges of the fingernails are slowly ripping
Shedding themselves but no sense of pain, you struggle to keep hold of the steering wheel some more
Without permission your fingernails slowly calculate themselves to rip from your tissue and rotate towards you
Temperature was low, drops even more so, your own breath is an agent of the fog you already canβt decipher
Deep breath, right, deep breath
Slap yourself into yourself, slap yourself into reasonβyet reason has deserted you
You are on your own, is it will at this point or is life out of your control
Your grip on the steering wheel has never been tighter
This fog gets even tighter
Every second a siren blends into the scream of a woman
And itβs here that you begin again
Gas completely full
Nails long
No rattle in the truck, you look in your wallet and see Abraham once again
From out the Earth spikes back a hand grizzled and only portrays four fingers
As the windmill slows and the air dampens, the creaks of old wood gets beside itself
Every little nuance annoys you with nothing to pinpoint
Tense, if you could sweat it in the cold you might tell yourself to wipe your brow
No one else is here, no one
Just quiet night disturbed to self occasional a siren
Itβs just you
The fog tightens
Now you see the skulls of smoke manifest out of your own imaginary smoke
Not a fan of skulls
Looming it is within your own thoughts, looming are those thoughts too late
Precious is the time passed, as the time goes
The fog tightens
Looming slyly out of it the face you canβt make out
Maybe a grin, maybe a frown
The fog tightens
Thick, it continues pattern that you canβt stomach, throw up says the body
Eyes shift back and forth, not sure of which laneβtemperature is dropped
The fog tightens
As passing and overpass there is a glance you perchance have that maddens
Through this fog a boned wave arm of beast is an instant, not unsure if that groan to accompany is beast
Tone of which has your coffee trickle
Speed lowered you look back, a set of teeth you could never imagine the size
The fog loosens
The moan groans louder as this figure of deceit and harm leans closer
The fog tightens as your sweat permeates as though self defense
Screeching as the halt
Gather yourself, your mind is not lost
The road has miles
The speed limit bleeds down the number
Enjoy this eternal journey
Put your foot to the pedal
The fog tightens
There is only this lifetime to go
